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A debate rages if the mother Liza Martinez over-reacted when her 14 year-old son Aaron took her newest BMW on a joyride in the rain. When the mother found out she phoned her adult daughter, Liza Campero, to see if the BMW was still at home. When told the car was gone, Liza M told her daughter, "Bring me the belt!" Liza C documented most of the incident using her phone to live-tweet to the InterWeb. Subsequently Aaron and both Lizas have appeared on many TV and radio shows. Was this use of a designer belt justified, or effective? Please share your thoughts. Below is a longer on-line posting by Liza Compero talking to be youngest brother Aaron Martinez a few days after the joyride and spanking. Below is a podcast of The Texas Belting Mom, Liza Menendez, and her adult daughter and Tweeter Liza Campero, being interviewed on Buzz Adams in the Morning at a radio station in Midland, Texas on Thursday, 18 October, 2018.

Gabriel has just broken a winery window and he had dropped a rope to into the house, the window was rather narrow but it was easy for him to go through it thanks his small size; being a little had some advantage after all. He didn’t know if someone was into home but in that case he had taken some countermeasures: He had a gun: It was a toy gun and pressing the trigger a flag with the word “bang” would have come out from the barrel. He had some firecrackers: he pretended some gun shots if it were necessary Some stadium smoke: that would be useful to cover an escape. They were cheap tricks but in the past they worked then he was very confident about them and his ability. He dropped with rope until the floor, and climbed the stairs of the winery getting to the door that opened easily accessing to the living room. He searched small objects that can be carried easily: he finded a silver frame with the photo a smiling old man on the small table. He removed and rested iton the table putting the frame in his backpack. Then he decided to take a ride around the house to see if there are something interesting: he opened a door seeing a giant nursery in the room. “I hope it’s not for a little” he said going to the next room, where he found a laptop on a big double bed. He had to climb hardly to reached it and put in the bag. Then he approached the bedside table and found a next generation smartphone, “today is my lucky day!” he said smiling and putting it in his bag, then opening every drawer where he found some cash. He went to the biggest drawers and with more difficulty opened the first drawer finding some jewelry “it’s fantastic!” he said putting everything in his bag. He decided to do another tour of the house to see if there was something else interesting but he heared the noise of the principal door that closed.

I write and sell spanking stories on Amazon under a pen name, several of which feature ABDL content. If you're interested, the link to my Amazon author page is below. If not, no biggie. Have a good day either way! S. V. Kerres Author Page

This thought was triggered by the "The Spanking Room" thread. Check your childhood memories and did you know of in the past of the use of an item to position the offender for spanking? Not at my house but I did have a neighbor who had a stool that they were draped over.

I've read a few times in the past about being spanked with a wet bottom as being extra painful. If you have had this, does it seem worse? And how was it done? After a bath or.../ I have a hard time imagining how it would be done.

Last Sunday my husband Don and I had brunch with Judy, one of his younger cousins and her husband Phil. They know I have no bladder control. While the guys were in another room talking, Judy asked if it is true that my kink is getting romantic spankings. I had no clue how she would know that, but since it is true, I admitted as much. That was when Judy started telling me about the family which shared their back fence when she was growing up until her folks moved when she was 16. That family had a son named Warren who is a year older than Judy and a daughter Betty who is nearly a year younger than Judy. Blushing Judy admitted that she had been spanked several times a year by her mother, who was best friends with Betty and Warren's mom. Because of all that, those kids played at each other's homes virtually daily. To Judy it was weird that although Betty and Warren had bedrooms next to their parents' master bedroom was a spare room furnished with just a twin bed and a straight back chair. On that hall door was a professionally made sign "The Spanking Room". It was only used for punishment. A misbehaving sibling would be taken, or sent, to that room. That was where spankings by hand, hairbrush or strap were administered. A few times Judy misbehaved at that home. She was immediately taken to the Spanking Room for a session bare-bottom with a hairbrush. Often she was a guest when either or both siblings were spanked in that room.

Maddie is 17 years old and always finds a way to get into trouble. I'll play the parents.

Mike is a 6 year old boy who is abandoned by his parents in the house of his aunt . He is a capriccious boy and even a little spoiled and his aunt will have to put him back . The game begins whith Mike who knock on aunty Betty's door. (I'd like interpret Mike if is possible) Can I know if you see the post in English or in Italian? because I see it in Italian despite i write it in English.

(this is the first roleplay that I do. I hope we will have fun together) Mike is a 6 year old boy who is abandoned by his parents in the house of his aunt. He is a capriccious boy and even a little spoiled and his aunt will have to put him back in line.

Taken from the dark age play compilation: Gratification: Volume Three, here is a little story about reading signs, about following instincts and doing … whatever comes to mind. ------------------------------- Whatever Comes To Mind Monday, 11:30pm Maria walked quickly through the brisk night air. Though it was late April, the night time could still dip the temperatures low. But she thought the short walk from her house to Annie Bailey’s Pub wouldn’t be so bad, despite the fact that she really wasn’t wearing very much at all. She was wrong about this. With any luck, the bartender there would give her a lift home. He always flirted with her when she stopped in and admittedly, she egged the flirting on. He was a studly guy, not a muscle-bound gorilla but definitely handsome and his voice always had the ability to make her wet. Needless to say, Maria had more than just a little crush on him. Her skimpy outfit was designed to catch his attention the very moment she walked into the pub. Keeping her arms folded tightly in front of her hardened nipples, she picked up the pace of her strides. But this only froze her legs that much more. Short skirts were fun and sexy. But they did little to keep warmth in. None of this would matter though, once she got inside the pub. And she couldn’t have gotten to that front door too soon, opening it and stepping inside. Shutting the door and standing there for a moment, she closed her eyes and basked in the warmth of the bar room. It felt like a warm bath on her chilly frame. Then, opening her eyes, she was surprised to see how dead the pub was. It was a Monday night. Wasn’t there baseball or something on TV that always brought jersey-wearing guys out? Looking over to the bar, she saw her man crush. Heath was his name and she could feel the first little tingles between legs, along with those wonderful butterflies in her tummy as she took graceful steps over towards him. He was rearranging liquor bottles on the display shelf, but he saw her approaching in the mirror on the wall. Smiling handsomely, he turned around - Maria getting to the bar and grabbing the edge of it just in time to prevent her knees from going weak and making her collapse to the floor. He had this most amazing ability to throw her off balance with a simple gaze in her direction. Taking a seat, she put her purse on the bar and smiled suggestively at him. The flirting between them would begin almost immediately, save for one question that was currently puzzling her. “Where are all the baseball fans?” she asked, crossing her legs and leaning forward to give Heath a better view of her cleavage. Maria was wearing a white, low cut top and a playful short skirt with a bit of flowy nature to it. She had worn her brunette hair down but tucked her locks behind her ears. Heath once told her that he absolutely loved long hair on a female and he wished they would never cut it beyond split-end trimmings. Her hair had been long for years and she had no intentions of cutting it short, not so long as it kept getting her such attention from him. Her make-up was designed to accentuate her eyes, putting eye liner on her top lid as well as her bottom. Heath once told her eye liner was the most make-up of all because it brought everything else together … mascara, eye shadow, brow color, the whole works. She had perfected the feminine wiles he enjoyed the most. “The baseball crowd? They went home a half hour ago,” Heath explained while making her a Sex On The Beach - a fruity but strong drink. “The game wasn’t very good tonight. So, they split a bit early.” He set her drink in front of her, having made it in a snifter glass - the shape of which always reminding Maria of a boob. Hence, she called it the boobie glass. Sipping from the little black straw in the drink, she eyed up Heath’s backside as he turned back to the liquor shelves and kept straightening the bottles. He was a good-looking guy, not too skinny like a twig but also not so heavy as to have love handles that hung out over his belt. And he wore clothing that complimented his body shape … all six feet of him. Maria only stood 5’ 5”. So, a taller guy was always attractive to her. Even with heels, she felt short around a taller guy … little even. “Maria, you always come in here and you tell me about your day, but you never tell me about you,” Heath said, turning back to face her and beginning to wash the glasses under the bar. “Why is that?” “I’m shy,” Maria said playfully, sipping a bit more of her drink. “Well, I think you should drink that straight down so I can make you another,” Heath said with a devilish grin. “Why? So you can take advantage of me tonight?” Maria asked with an equally devilish grin. “I have wanted to take you home with me for the longest time,” he admitted, being playful but also being honest. “And what would we do when we got home to your place?” Maria asked, egging on the flirtation as she then sipped from her drink. “Whatever comes to mind,” he said cryptically. “So tell me what comes to mind,” Maria said, reaching to her waist and pulling down the front of her low cut shirt just a bit more to allow a greater amount of her cleavage to be revealed. “Just so you’re aware, I’m keen to what you’re trying to do,” Heath said, raising an eyebrow at her. “And it won’t work.” “Oh, really?” Maria sassed back playfully. “Tell me what it is you think I’m trying to do and why you believe it won’t work, Bar Man.” “You have safely redirected the topic of discussion away from yourself, as usual. Tell me about yourself,” Heath said, playfully jousting back as he looked down at her outfit. “… Schoolgirl.” Maria smiled knowingly, wrinkling up her lips as she had indeed been caught in a misdirect. But she had known him long enough at this point to tell him a little about who she was. She certainly wanted the guy she dreamed of sleeping with to know who she was before she found herself in the middle of his bed, staring up at the ceiling and arching her back towards a forthcoming summit. “Okay,” she said, then sipping the rest of her drink straight down and sliding the glass over to him to refill. “I am a Catholic girl who hasn’t been to church in a long time. I am a regional coordinator for The Spina Bifida Foundation. I am an only child. I blaze my own path in life and I’ve never gone home with a guy from a bar before.” “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Heath suggested, sliding another Sex On The Beach in front of her. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Heath,” Maria said, leaning in towards him. “I am very much in favor of wearing your clothing at breakfast.” “Now you’re talkin’,” Heath said with his deep timbre, Maria all-but shuddering at the sounds of his low tone. “I’ve always liked the bad boys and I’ve always refused to believe that bad boys were poor marriage material,” Maria said with a growing lust in her irises. “But sometimes, to get a bad boy’s attention, a girl needs to be a little naughty.” “Naughty girls get spanked,” Heath flirted, keeping his voice low. “If they get spanked, they deserved it,” Maria flirted back. “Tell me something that’s a secret about you. Something that your appearance and demeanor would never reveal.” “I am a sucker for a submissive girl,” Heath answered with no hesitation at all. “Now, you tell a secret.” “When handsome guys flirt with me, they get me wet,” Maria admitted. “I used to be embarrassed by this, but now I welcome it.” “So, you have extra panties in your purse?” he asked with a grin. “Nope. No spare panties in my purse,” Maria said, patting her purse on the bar. “Your turn. Tell another secret.” “Hmm,” he said, thinking about it for a second. “I love girls who are confident but who aren’t femi-Nazis about life.” “Do you want to get married someday?” Maria asked. “Yes. But I don’t want to have kids,” Heath answered quickly. “Why not?” Maria asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I waited a bit too late in life for that. Becoming a father now would mean my kids would be graduating college when I’m getting ready to retire,” Heath answered with honesty, pouring himself a ginger ale and adding raspberry syrup to it. “Besides, I’m an uncle. And I’ve got plenty of interaction that way. How about you? Marriage? Kids?” “Marriage, yes. Kids, no,” Maria answered, just as quickly and confidently as he had answered. “Why not?” he asked, sipping from his drink. “I’m not able to have kids. It was the result of a car accident I was in when I was young,” Maria answered with honesty. “So, wanting to have kids would only upset me. But I still have baby fever.” “And how do you handle that?” Heath asked, detecting the subject wasn’t something that seemed to upset her and pressing forward with it. “I baby myself,” she answered with a laugh, then sipping her drink. “Yeah? Teddy bears? Hair bows? That sort of thing?” Heath asked, Maria nodding and taking down the rest of her drink. “Yep,” she answered, sliding the empty glass over to him, Heath washing it in the sink. “Nighties, pacifiers, baby clothes … diapers.” “Really?” Heath asked with wide eyes. “Yep ………. and no, I’m not wearing a diaper right now,” Maria said before he asked. “I’m wearing panties.” “Are they wet?” Heath asked with a raised eyebrow. “Soaked,” she answered with flirtatious suggestion. “That’s naughty,” he flirted back, leaning in towards. “Then I guess I need a spanking,” Maria whispered to him. “Well … I need to go back into the cooler to inventory the beer,” Heath whispered to her. “How about you come back with me? And I’ll warm your backside … provided you don’t heat up the beer for being such a hot little thing.” Maria smiled and picked up her purse, getting off the stool and walking around behind the bar. Oh, my. He was so tall. “Good girl,” he said, pointing in the direction of the back and playfully patting her bottom through the back of her short skirt. Heath led her into the cooler, picking up the reordering clipboard and handing it to her. The cooler was definitely that … cool. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as the chilliness outside. “Okay,” he said, looking at the racks of booze. “We will need to order more ….. Coors, Coors Light, Yuengling, Guinness, Boston Lager, a keg of Budweiser, a keg of Pabst’s Blue Ribbon … and also Corona and Corona Light. Did you get all those?” “Got ‘em,” Maria said, putting the pen on the clipboard and handing it back to him. “But I don’t wanna be too good of a girl right now.” “Don’t you worry, Little Miss Catholic Schoolgirl,” Heath said with a deep timbre as they walked out of the cooler and headed towards the office. “I won’t let that happen.” The manager’s office was directly behind the bar room, a tiny little closet-like space with a cluttered desk and a stone-aged desktop computer … so old that it still used a tower. Shutting the door, he locked it and then walked over to the swivel chair - taking a seat it in and looking up at her with a smile. Maria lowered her chin, shyly. “Show me why you need to be spanked,” he said, relaxing in the chair and getting ready to enjoy the show. Standing with her legs together, her shoulders shrunken and her chin kept lowered, Maria reached down to the lower hem of the front of her skirt and lifted it up - revealing the wet spot on the front of her red satin panties. The wetness was a straight vertical line down the middle with a cute little spot right at the bottom where she dripped from her perineum. Oh, did she blush the shade of her panties, mortified - not just that this hunky crush of hers was seeing what a mess she had made of herself, but also because she had welcomed all of this with flirts. “Now take your top off,” Heath said, Maria submissively taking her white top off to reveal her matching red satin bra. “You really are a hot little number, aren’t you? But hotness or not, you won’t be able to tell your panties from your bottom when I’m done with you.” That comment alone made her drip again. She never truly understood why the mere thought of having a hand taken to her bottom was such an arousing one. But it seemed superfluous to waste time trying to figure it out … time that could better be spent building up the anticipation of what was to come. Pain was evident, pleasure to follow. Heath stood up and Maria released the lower hem from her fingertips, the front of her skirt falling back down as she folded her forearms in front of her abdomen - trying to find a place to keep them out of the way. Standing behind her, he reached around and gripped her red satin cups - then pulling them down … her breasts falling out of the bra. His hands, oh, his huge hands groped her - his thumbs and pointer fingers pinching and rolling her nipples around at his fingertips. She fidgeted and fussed just the slightest bit at the pinches, but she really didn’t want him to stop doing anything. He was working on her mind as well as her body and another well-placed comment would set more in motion. “You are a naughty girl and you do need a spanking,” he said, releasing his gropes and turn her to face him - placing two fingers under her chin and raising her eyes to gaze up at him. “And if I’m spanking you, then that makes me your Daddy, doesn’t it?” “Yes …,” she said softly, looking up at him lustfully. “… Daddy.” She could feel another little tingle at her center and another little drip adding itself to the wet spot on her red satin panties. She was mesmerized by the moment, by what he was doing to her, by what he was saying to her and by his scent - a mixture of his cologne, the detergent in his clothing and his sweat from having worked. “Take my belt off,” he said with a deep timbre, Maria reaching down to his waist and fumbling with the buckle but getting it apart - sliding the belt out of his pants loops, then holding the belt and lifting it up to him. “Good girl. But you’re still naughty in my eyes. And you still need a bit of correction, don’t you?” “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered almost inaudibly as he took the leather belt from its offering on her open hands. “Now slide those wet panties down your legs and step out of them,” he said with a controlled growl, taking a step back and watching. Maria reached under her skirt and up to her waist line, bending over and pulling down the waist band of her red satin panties. Heath watched from just a step away, folding his leather belt in half and holding it on either side to then crack the belt a few times. She rolled the panties down her legs, slowly as to give him a visual sight he would enjoy. Stepping out of the panties and picking them up, she stood up straight - preparing to hand the panties to him. But the moment she stood up, he pulled her close to him - his left hand indeed taking the panties from her, but his right hand going under the front of her skirt and onto the smoothness between her legs. When she took a shower before making the brisk walk to the pub, she shaved herself to silky smoothness everywhere in the hope that his hands just might make their way down under her skirt. She had lost track of how many times in her life she had made that preparation, only to be disappointed by a lack of result. But, for some reason, she knew she would get lucky with him that night. Call it female instinct. He felt her wetness and the swell of her outer lips, his palm sliding up and down her labium with ease. Doing her best not to show too much reaction to his touch, Maria kept her eyes to the floor - tightening her lips and concentrating on keeping her breathing steady and even. She knew that her emotions and her thresholds were about to be pushed beyond their limits. So, there was no sense in exhausting herself prior. Tucking her red satin panties into his left pants pocket, Heath turned her to face towards the desk. Pushing the clutter out of the way, he then made her take a small step backwards before bending her forward at the waist. Instinctively, she put her hands out - her palms going flat as they landed on the top of the desk. Then he flipped up the back of her skirt and began tapping the insides of her thighs with the folded leather belt, Maria shuffling her feet further apart and widening her stance until he was satisfied with her position. He stepped behind her and there she remained - the room going silent, the satellite radio music in the bar room seeming louder and clearer than before. It was then she realized that no one was going to hear anything that happened back in that little office. Her heart began to pound heavily in her chest. Her breathing picked up, but still was kept by her tightened lips and conscious control. Then the sound of leather cracking rang in her ear drums, over and over and over again as Heath cracked the belt in his hands. With a widened stance, she had trouble locking her knees and this would likely be the case throughout everything that was about to happen to her. He had smartly taken away one of her defenses. “I think ten smacks will be adequate for this offense of wet panties, don’t you?” Heath asked, cracking his leather belt again. “Yes, Daddy,” Maria said softly, swallowing a lump in her throat while trying to keep the heavily-pounding heart in her chest from rushing too much blood into her head and making her dizzy. “So, you will count every one of these and then you’ll thank me for it,” Heath said, stepping to her left and placing his left hand on her lower lumbar to hold the back of her skirt up and out of the way. “Yes, Daddy,” she said with a shakier and more whispered tone than before as she braced herself for the forthcoming first strike. CRACK! The leather belt connected with her bottom, squarely across both bottom cheeks - the reverberation in that little office being quick but still loud as the sound echoed everywhere. It was postceded by the same preceding swish of air his arm made when swinging. But the first strike really didn’t hurt very much, though it was delivered with a lot of muscle strength. It jolted her and she clenched her bottom cheeks for a moment, feeling more shock from it than anything else. “One,” she said softly. “Thank you, Daddy.” CRACK!! The second strike landed, the belt having audibly sliced through the air and landed across bottom cheeks again. But this time, they landed on the lower half of her cheeks. She seized up for a moment, closing her lips tightly to prevent from squealing as this second offering was twice as powerful as the first. It left a slight sting on her skin and added in with the growing discomfort from the first strike, she began processing a lot of sensations simultaneously. “Two. Thank you, Daddy,” she said, dealing with the sudden distraction of being a switchboard for nerve-endings. CRACK!!! A third strike landed across her bottom cheeks, but this time, across the top. He was making an American flag out of her backside. The sounds echoed in the room as did her gasp for air from the sting. There were no new areas left for him to strike and she knew that the next time that belt sliced through the air, it would deliver the first offering that would travel inward. Her skin had been affected, but now the meat underneath was the focal target. “Three,” she said, staring down at the cluttered desk and breathing a bit more heavily as her mind had already decided that this spanking was about to go up to a whole new level of discomfort. CRACK!!!! Strike four landed squarely across the center of her cheeks, his wrist turning as he connected - then pulling the belt back quickly and allowing the sting to indeed travel inward. This produced her first whimper as she closed her eyes and did all she could to mentally displace the pain … to little avail. She hated the fact that she was right, for as much as she loved it at the same time - a bit of opposite confusion added into the present mix. “Four,” she said with a shaky tone, then pausing to collect herself before finishing the statement. “Thank you, Daddy.” CRACK!!!!! The belt landed across the center of her bottom cheeks again, Maria seizing up again and rising up on her curled toes as she fought the pain and a sting that seemed to not want to lessen. It felt like she was stuck in that single moment when a bee sting was at its affected worst. It was a seemingly never-ending bite of pain. “Five. Thank you, Daddy,” she said with the first vocal signs of weeping - a weeping that would grow worse quickly. CRACK!!!!!! The belt landed across the center of her bottom cheeks yet again and she clenched her lips shut, closing her eyes and beginning to breath heavily through her nostrils. Gritting her teeth, she tried not to break down. But the pain was far too intense. And the sting had traveled so deeply into her meat that she could feel a pulsing throb from it. She wouldn’t be able to hold out through all ten, not without giving up and showing the strength of her weaknesses. “Six. Thank you, Daddy,” she said, sniffling repeatedly. CRACK, CRACK!!!!!!! Two strikes landed, one to the top half of her bottom cheeks and the other to the lower half of her bottom cheeks - the second landing quickly in succession of the first. Her entire body tensed up, but her wide stance prevented her from locking her knees. If she had been able to do that, she could have tightened her leg muscles enough to withstand the primary shocks. Tightening might have proven worse for her down the road, but it would have helped with the initial. “Seven. Eight. Thank you, Daddy,” she said, barely capable of making any sound at all at this point - other than crying like a baby. She shook all over, her mind trying to escape the overload of the moment. But with a constant influx of messages being sent from her nerve-endings, she found herself helplessly being thrusted back into the present … repeatedly with each excruciatingly painful pulse. CRACK!!!!!!!!! The belt landed again, right across that same center stripe of her bottom cheeks. She had to be welted and swollen on that stripe. There was no way she wasn’t in that condition. She was sure of it, though she couldn’t look back over her shoulder or turn around to see … at least not without serious consequence for having done so. And besides, she was too busy crying to do anything else - her tears having begun to stream down her cheeks … the ones on her face, this time. “Nine,” she verbalized through her sobs. “Thank you, Daddy.” CRACK!!!!!!!!!! The final strike landed on the lower half of her bottom. However, the pain instantly lessened within her. Though that final strike hurt, it wasn’t nearly as bad because she knew there would be no more to follow it. She had somehow survived the ten smacks for having been a naughty girl. And she had indeed won the attention of a bad boy. Though it took an extreme amount of effort on her part, she had done it. So, when Heath stood her up and turned her to face him, she knew exactly what to say. “Ten. Thank you, Daddy,” she said with breathy exhaustion. “Now you’re a good girl,’ he said, picking her up in his arms and taking a seat on the swivel chair - Maria smashing the front of her body against him to take in a nose-full of his scent but also to keep her bottom in the cool, free air. It had a wonderful numbing effect. Though there was still pain, it was nothing like what she had just felt. And the fact that he was not only willing to sit there and care for her as she pulled her emotions back together but also be the primary aid in her recovery meant more to her than anything else in the world. He wasn’t the guy who spanked her. She didn’t see him that way. Instead, he was the guy who kept her honest and kept his word and saw her punishment through - albeit a playful game. But the sentiment was no game at all, not to her … and obviously, not to him either. Her red satin panties weren’t coming out of his left pants pocket and she knew it. They now belonged to him and she was quite happy with that fact. Besides, she had made them wet. He wasn’t going to allow her to put them back on. So, she pointed to her purse on the near end of the cluttered desk. Heath picked up the purse and opened it, smiling as he saw the diaper she had rolled up and put inside it. It was only a generic disposable, not really intended to withstand any heavy use. But that really didn’t matter. Standing her back up and putting her back in the position she kept while being spanked, he unfolded the diaper and placed the back waist line of it to her lower lumbar. Pressing his center against the back of her body, he held the diaper in place as he folded the front of it up and in place - opening the tapes and fastening them loosely at her hips. She could tell that air flow would be able to pass through the diaper. This would be helpful, given that her bottom was enflamed. And without the seasoning of baby powder that would have been the same as pouring salt in a wound, there would be some comfort. But the greatest comfort would have been knowing whether or not the diaper stuck out below the back hem of her short skirt. Some insecurities would always remain. Turning her to face him, he put her breasts back inside the red satin bra and slipped her back into her low-cut white top. She took a few moments to put herself back together, fluffing and primping herself before looking in the little mirror by the office door. He picked up the clipboard of beer reorders and turned to her, wiping the tears from her face before leading her back out into the main bar room. It was so warm out there, the remnant of quite a few bodies having been in there that night. She could feel the diaper moving somewhat freely with each step she took, given how loosely he had taped it onto her. And though the sound of amplified music filled the pub, she still heard the crinkling of her diaper. Glancing back quickly, she indeed saw just a bit of it peeking out from under the back of her short skirt. Not wanting anyone to see it, she took a seat once again on the very same stool she used before. And the moment she sat down, her eyes grew big and wide as she bit into her lower lip to prevent from crying in pain. Very carefully, she stood back up and went to the end of the bar, just a few steps away. She would be fine with standing for the rest of the night because sitting wasn’t a very comfortable thing for her to do. Heath went back behind the bar, continuing to clean up. That was the moment when the owner of the bar walked over to them. “Hello, Maria,” Rick, the owner of the bar, said - walking up to her and giving her a hug. “Hi, Rick. How’s Glenn?” Maria asked cheerfully, hugging him back, but keeping him in front of her - for fear that he might catch sight of her peeking diaper. “Glenn is good. We’re both excited,” Rick answered, Heath having already made his boss’s favorite drink. “There ya go, Sir,” Heath said, setting the drink in front of him. “I see no Sir anywhere around me,” Rick joked, then picking up the drink and taking an enormous swig of it. “Ah, yes. There’s nothing like a red-headed slut going down a parched throat.” Maria started to smile and then she laughed. “It’s okay, Maria. You can say it,” Rick said with a big grin. “Glenn is a ginger, right?” Maria asked. “Yep. And he’s my slut, too,” Rick replied. “In a few short months, he will be all mine forever.” “Yeah. When is the wedding?” Heath asked. “July 15th,” Rick answered. “We haven’t sent the invitations out yet, but I want both of you to be there. I can’t imagine it will be as big as your wedding was, though.” Maria and Heath look at each other, smiling brightly. “Yeah, I kinda invited everyone I knew to our wedding,” Maria confessed, reaching out and taking Heath’s left hand to play with his wedding ring. “But I got lucky when I married this guy. I knew every day of our marriage would feel like the first day we met … only better.” “Heath, I’ll close up the bar tonight,” Rick said. “Why don’t you two head home? It looks like your little lady is quite affectionate right now. I always know what’s on Glenn’s mind when he gets that way.” “Thanks, boss,” Heath said, walking around the bar and heading out with Maria on his arm. Keeping herself smashed against his side, she crinkled with each step - her sore bottom brushing against the inner softness of her diaper. “I walked here,” she admitted, feeling quite affectionate. “It’s a chilly night, Princess,” he said, unlocking his car and opening the passenger’s side door for her to get in. “I know, but I knew that if I got here, you would warm me up,” Maria said, pecking his lips and then getting into the car. Oh, yes. Life was good. And for three years of marriage, life had been even better than that. Right from the moment they first met, they effortlessly assumed their roles of dominant and submissive. But they initially did so in a very vanilla manner. He was so open and willing to explore anything with her that she felt quite comfortable in revealing her kinky nature to him. Because of this, their lives together had become quite Neapolitan in flavor, but she didn’t add the chocolate and strawberry all at once. She never inundated him with anything. Instead, she gave him kinky things to look up and to research. Then she waited for him to start asking questions. When he did, she explained what that particular kinky thing meant to her and how it made her feel. After his curiosity peeked, he aggressively suggested they try some of these things out. And try them out they certainly did. But he never let the power go to his head and she never took his willingness for granted. This was the most important bit of their evolution together. That, and a mutual need for balance in life. There would always be such a truth as too much of a good thing. So the trick was always: how to avoid too much. “Oh! I forgot to tell you I have tomorrow off!” Maria said with excitement, Heath smiling brightly as he started the car. “And tomorrow night is my night off at the bar,” he said, devilishly raising an eyebrow. “So, we have a whole day to do …” “… whatever comes to mind,” Maria said, completing his thought. “Ya got that right, BabyGirl,” Heath said, slamming on the gas as they sped off into the night. “And that’s exactly what we’re gonna do … whatever comes to mind.”

I lady I know I took pictures from her discussion board on yahoo. She noticed them on my discussion board. I had since removed them, but she said I needed to be put over a lady or better yet a younger lady's lap and spanked. She also said I had a cute elementary school student's butt. I wondered if she was the girl at the Charlestiion library that said, "you need your mouth soaped and a good panking for talking naughty.. She also said what was done was childish and I ought to be diaper punished by having to wear a diaper. What is everyone's input

Mommy if i did something bad what would you do

Part 1. “You go first,” Caroline smiled. “Remember, I want complete honesty.” My very attractive, 24 year old, black-haired date smiled and folded her arms across her large chest, enjoying my embarrassment. This was new to me, Truth or Dare on a first date. I remained silent while the waiter cleared the plates from the table. I felt my heart beating in my chest but decided to take the plunge. After all, my Match.com dates never result in a repeat meeting and I knew I wouldn’t see Caroline again. “I used to wet the bed and my mother would beat me for it.” Caroline’s eyebrows rose. “How old were you?” She asked. I thought she would be shocked, even appalled but nothing showed on her face. “What do you mean?” “When was the last time she beat you?” Her tone filled with impatience. “When I was seventeen.” My reply hung in the air. Across the table, Caroline kept her face impassive while she absorbed this news. I knew the next question was coming. “Do you still wet the bed?” Burning red but managing a smile, I waved a finger. “Ah.. No, it’s your turn now.” Caroline smiled and drummed her fingers on the table cloth. “When I was eight, I was sexually abused by my father and when I was thirteen, I was raped by him.” I sat there shocked and stared at her. There was no emotion or shame in her voice. My first instinct was that she was telling a joke in extremely bad taste. But how could anyone lie about such a thing? “That’s dreadful!” I muttered, finding it hard to hold eye contact with her. “How long did it go on for?” Caroline remained silent for a few seconds before smiling and picking up the desert menu. “Ok, game over. I really fancy some Crème Brulee, don’t you?” ----*---- Two weeks later she took me by surprise while I was preparing my evening meal. Neither of us had committed to another date and a handshake had finished the first date. However, she had asked me for my address on the pretext of sending me an invite to some party she was having in the future. I had offered email, but she waved that off, saying she found a real letter far more personal and acceptable. My apartment in West London has 24 hour concierge service, and the doorman would never let anyone up if I had not been contacted first. When the doorbell rang, I naturally thought it was a neighbour, after a cup of sugar or a helping hand. It took a second to recognise her after opening the door. “Caroline!” I exclaimed. “What a surprise!” Nervously, I wiped my hands on my apron and an awkward silence fell between us. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?” She finally asked, a smile lighting up her face. I took her through to the kitchen and poured her a glass of wine while I finished off the meal. There was enough for two. After I had served up the lamb curry and rice on the table she appeared. I had that feeling that she hadn’t actually been solely in the bathroom. After a few pleasantries over the delicious meal, she rested her knife and fork and looked up at me. “Truth or Dare. We never did finish it, did we?” Caroline raised her eyebrows in question. “It’s my turn to ask the question?” The food was feeling heavy in my stomach and I had a sinking feeling. I nodded in acquiesce. “So, I will repeat, do you still wet the bed?” There was no sympathetic smile or gentle tone. Something deep inside me compelled a truthful answer as I had nothing to lose. “Yes.” Caroline didn’t appear surprised. “And what about your mother, do you still see her?” I nodded. “She lives in Devon, but comes to stay occasionally. And of course, I go down there on a regular basis.” Caroline looked puzzled. “But the abuse you suffered. Surely you would have ostracized her?” I went pale and looked down at my plate. “She is a powerful woman,” I mumbled. “But also she is the trustee of my inheritance.” Understanding showed in Caroline’s eyes. “Ah, she controls the purse strings; a powerful force indeed.” I got up to clear the table but she smacked my hand away from her plate. “Sit down Peter, they can wait. We still have plenty to talk about.” She produced a packet of cigarettes and lighter and lit one up. I hated smoking and stared at her. “Hope you don’t mind.” I didn’t feel it was a question. “No,” I mumbled. Something compelled me to surrender. Normally I would have objected strongly. “Now,” she said, flicking ash onto her dinner plate. “Tell me the truth about the current relationship you have with your mother.” “What do you mean?” For the first time, Caroline raised her voice slightly. “I don’t like lying. And lying is telling a lie and not telling the truth, the whole story. Peter, stop lying to me will you? You are 34 years old and you have told me that she stopped beating you for wetting the bed when you were seventeen. So how do both of you handle the bed wetting now?” I was stunned. My heart was hammering in my chest and I felt my eyes water over. I stood. “I will show you.” Caroline followed me into the bathroom where I opened one of the wall cabinets. She was greeted by the sight of neat rows of disposable nappies and folded plastic pants, along with Johnson’s baby powder and zinc oxide cream. I felt weak and sat on the bath rim. If she wanted the truth, well, she was going to get the truth. “It was on my seventeenth birthday that I was woken by my mother who was holding a cup of tea in one hand and a wooden paddle in the other. Then the bed clothes would be pulled back for the normal bed inspection. She didn’t really have to inspect the bed. I was wet every morning but the inspection was just there to shame me. After breakfast, we got in a taxi and went to a clinic in Harley Street where they specialized in incontinence and since that day I have worn nappies every night to protect the bed.” Caroline looked at me. “Why the tears?” I was crying. Feeling so vulnerable and helpless. So humiliated after admitting my shameful secret. “Are you missing your Mummy?” Caroline was smiling now. Was she mocking me? Back at the dinner table, she lit another cigarette and waved at the opposite chair for me to sit. I obeyed. “Remember,” she waved a finger at me. “No lying now. We are still playing Truth or Dare.” Well, one of us was, I suppose. I nodded in agreement. Why did you join Match.com?” “I wanted a partner, maybe a wife,” I blurted out, perhaps a little bit too fast. I jumped as Caroline slapped her hand on the table. “What have I said about lying?” Again, that raised voice. She tapped her neck with one hand. “I have had it with men lying. Peter, you are not allowed to lie to me.” I was frightened and somewhat confused and didn’t reply. Caroline eased up and took a deep drag of the cigarette. “Alright,” she said softly. “I will make it easy for you. Are you looking for a partner or a mummy? Tell the truth now?” ----*----

This role play is about a girl named jessica (who i will play) and she notices that her parents our sad and she wants to help them.

(Before anyone reads this, I think its only fair to warn you that there are 'dirtier' themes then you would normally find in an abdl story. I don't believe it breaks any site rules, but as I usually don't write like this, I may be mistaken and I apologize if so . )SMACK SMACK SMACK!The sissy squirmed as his bottom was spanked by his daddy. Tears were streaming down his face as he grasped tightly onto his teddy bear for comfort, and only his pacifier keeping him from calling out. His diaper was pulled down to his knees and his skirt lay on the ground, leaving his bare skin open to the harsh smacks. His daddy took his time, spanking him again and again until he was satisfied the sissy had learned his lesson.He stopped and rested his hand on the sissy's bright red bottom, feeling the new found warmth comming off of it."Now little Nathaniel, did you learn your lesson?"The sissy squrimed and looked at him through tear soaked eye lids. He didn't answer and kept suckling his pacifier, knowing the trick.His daddy patted his upturned bottom. "Good baby," he said. He removed the pacifier and asked again, "did you learn your lesson?""Yes daddy," he sniffed."What did you learn?""I learned not to deny to mommy or daddy that I'm a sissy baby.""Exactly right." He began absent mindedly stroking and patting the sissy boy's bottom, making him moan. "Now, remember when you came here. You played with your mommy, being her little baby, pretending to be a boy..."The sissy groaned and the word "pretending."The sissy's 'daddy' began speaking in an overly sweat, mocking tone. "But then she tried putting her baby in a skirt. She's told me how you whined and complained that you were a boy, and how you didn't want to do that... and how hard you became the second you were in pink. Remember?"He nodded."It wasn't long after until you were always in your pretty pink skirts, always a little sissy, and always loving it. But you still complained, didn't you? Were you a naughty little liar to your mommy?" He spanked him hard.Nathaniel yelped. "YES DADDY!""And whats more... I bet you never expected to be subby to a daddy, did you?""No daddy...""But the little sissy saw all the big strong men, and mommy saw how he stared... and it wasn't long until you were in the lap of your first male babysitter, crying in humiliation, and beging for more, wasn't it?" He spanked him again, and Nathaniel shouted."Yes Daddy!""And then you asked for something you never thought you would, to please a daddy, didn't you?"He blushed deeply. "Yes daddy.""Good baby. And yet it still seems you deny it sometimes, don't you? Like you did to mommy and me earlier?""Yes daddy.""Was that a lie? Was that a naughty little lie?" Another spank, another yelp.He nodded. "Yes daddy!""Then beg me for it. Beg to be a little sissy in pink dresses, bending over and kneeling down to please me. Tell me how much you love it.""Oh god daddy please no..."He spanked him, harder then before. "NOW!""OW! PLease daddy! I want to be a little sissy in pink dresses, bending and kneeling to please you! I love it I love it!""Good. Then I have a reward for my sissy. Stand up." He helped Nathaniel to his feet. He then reached over and pulled up the sissy's diaper, straigtening it out."Now. Pick up your skirt and put it on."He looked at the skirt and back at his daddy. "But... Daddy?" Normally he was forced into his fetish clothes, not asked to put them on himself."Do it yourself. If you want it, that is. I don't want any way for my little sissy to pretend we made him do it."Nathaniel glared, but reached down and pulled up the skirt.Nathaniel was now dressed head to toe in fetish wear. Almost everything he wore was pink and was designed to drive home his feminine and infantile state. Around his waist was a flouncing skirt that was short enough to leave his patterned diapers visible. Underneath it were long, pale stockings that went to his knees and were tied in bows, then Mary Jane shoes. Above it was a pink shirt he tucked into his skirt, a bonnet, and his pacifier. Though he was still clearly male, his hair had grown long, and the clothes were cut to fit his thin stature.Jordan, his 'daddy,' on the other hand, was far broader, and wearing only shorts and a t shirt. The contrast between the muscular sitting man and the thinner one in the skirt was clear.Jordan patted his lap. "Sit down sweetheart."Nathanil sat down gingerly, then whined and squirmed as he rested on his aching bottom."Oh hush up, your diapers are more then thick enough for cushioning," Jordan said. "Now, for your reward. And remember, you can stop this anytime you want"He picked up a bottle of white frothy liquid and brought it to Nathaniel's lips. Nathaniel looked at him suspiciously, then began to drink what he assumed was milk.A moment later Nathaniel gagged. "Keep drinking sweetheart," Jordan said sternly. "And yes, that is exactly what you think it is."Nathaniel whined but kept drinking. The bottle tip was thin, and the liquid came out slowly, forcing him to taste each drop."Like that? This was ordered online. I bet you didn't know they sold stuff like it, eh?" Jordan said. Nathaniel cringed and kept drinking. "It comes other doms and real men, intended for little sissies like you. I of course added my own, plus a little something to help you fill your diapers." Nathaniel groaned loadly at the last part, but kept drinking."I want you to know that this is your place. Look at you, a grown man dressed like a little girl in diapers, suckling a bottle in your daddy's lap. Longing to be in pretty pink skirts and getting taken care of and spanked. Pathetic. But you love it, don't you?"Nathaniel nodded between gulps. He squeezed his eyes shut and had to fight back gags from the salty taste."And now you're drinking this just because I told you to. We both know you hate the taste. We both know you could leave if you really wanted to. But we also both know that you won't, don't we? You love this more then anything?"Nathaniel didn't respond, and Jordan slowly reached down to his waste, lifted up his skirt and put a hand on the front of his diaper. Nathaniel gasped."Oh no? Sure seems like youre enjoying it." Nathaniel whimpered and pushed himself into his daddy's hand.Jordan laughed. "Oh ho look at you. Really loving it. Love the feeling of your pretty pink diapers, nice and soft against you?" He began rubbing it back in forth. Nathaniel didn't move. "Admit it, sissy. Admit you love it or I'll stop."Nathaniel nodded vigerously."Good baby."Nathaniel felt something poking the back of his diaper. He began rubbing it with his diaper almost instinctively, moving his bottom back and forth in his daddy's lap as he'd been taught to do.Jordan smiled. 'Very good baby."The bottle was almost done. Nathaniel still struggled to drink each drop, chocing and gagging at the taste."Keep going little one, almost there. Baby isn't going to be able to finish in his diaper unless he finishes his bottle!" He spoke in a high, teasing voice. "And remember, that is filled with a nice laxative, so finishing means your going to be in a VERY full and VERY stinky diaper soon, and we're going to keep you in it ALLLLLLL night. Sound fun?"Nathaniel whimpered and shook his head."Oh no?" Jordan pressed down on his diaper, and Nathaniel began nodding again. "Mmm hmm! Mmmm hmm!" he groaned, wordlessly begging for the punishment his daddy had promised."Now, you want to add something else to your pwetty widdle diapies?" Jordan asked."Mhmm!" "Finish the bottle and I might let you." He rubbed slower, keeping Nathaniel on the edge.Nathaniel sucked as hard as he could and tried to drink faster, resisting the urge to gag as he swallowed it all. Jordan kept rubbing him slowly, stopping when he felt him get to close.Finally the bottle was finished, and he moved it away."Oh god daddy!" Nathaniel shouted. "Please! Please let me!"Let you what? Let you be my little sissy forever? Let you please your daddy? Let you fill your little diapies?""Yes daddy please I want it all! To be your sissy, to please you, to fill my diapers!""Good. And you'll never play pretend at being a man again?""No daddy! Never! I'm not! I can't be!""Good. And you know that even though you're going to finsih in your diapers now, you'll still have to please your daddy, you'll still have to be a little diapered sissy, and you'll still spend the night in a messy diaper since when the fun is all gone?"Nathaniel was sobbing in desperation. "Yes daddy.""And you know this will prove how much you love being a little sissy in diapers, how much it turns you on, and how you only need to finish in your diapers from now on?"Tears streamed down his face. "Yes daddy!""Good baby. Then finish." He rubbed harder. Nathaniel gasped, convulsed, and lay shuddering on his lap.Jordan let him rest for a moment, smiling down at him. He then gently picked him up and cradled him in his lap. He began rocking him."Good baby. Good baby. Good sissy. You did well little one, you really did," he said in a soft voice.Nathaniel's eyes opened. "Daddy?" he said questioningly."Shhh..." Jordan said. "You were a good little sissy." He bent down and kissed Nathaniel on the forehead. He stroked his hair and back as Nathaniel became more and more awake. When Jordan was satisfied he was rested enough, he sat up straighter and hugged him. "Now, go rinse your mouth out," he said louder. "Then you'll come back and finish pleasing your daddy. When you're done, we'll give you a nice hot bath, and maybe some cookies if you're good, ok? How's that sound?"Nathaniel smiled. "Good, daddy.""Good, then go." He stood Nathaniel up, patted his bottom, and sent him on his way.

Chapter one The first thing Amber was aware of as she woke up was that her head was a little fuzzy. She groaned as she realised that she had too much to drink last night. The next thing she became aware of was that she was not in her bed, but on her friend Samantha’s sofa, and Sam was stood over her looking very pissed off. “Look at what you’ve done,” said Sam. Amber followed Sam’s gaze down to her crotch, and realised that she was lying in a wet patch. She reached under the skirt she was still wearing from the night before and felt that the tights underneath were wet, and clinging to her. “I…I don’t understand,” said Amber as she began to realise what had happened. “Let me clear things up for you then,” said Sam, “You had too much to drink, embarrassed yourself at the party by laying across some old perv’s lap so he could ‘spank’ you, then you came back here with me, because you were worried that your mum would be annoyed if you came home that drunk. You woke up all the neighbours on the way in, and my little brother and sister. Then you collapsed on my sofa and to top it all off, you’ve gone and pissed yourself all over it.” “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed,” said Amber. She wasn’t lying. The rest of it was quite bad, but wetting herself was incredibly humiliating. She’d never had an accident, at least not since being old enough to remember. Holly, a girl at school a few years back had, and she had been teased mercilessly for it, and Amber had joined in with the teasing. One particular comment was coming back to haunt her now. Amber had told Holly that if she still wet her knickers like a baby, she should wear nappies. Amber had thought it funny at the time. She didn’t anymore. “You should be embarrassed, and you will be. You’re my friend, and I’ve tried to warn you not to drink so much when we go out. Anything could happen to you. Luckily for you, my parents are away, so I can teach you a little lesson today.” “Teach me a lesson?” asked Amber. She didn’t like where this was heading. “Yes. You won’t like it, but just in case you get any ideas…” Sam showed Amber a picture on her phone. It showed Amber, lying on the sofa in the school uniform costume she had worn to the party last night. Her face was clearly visible. As if the puddle she was lying in wasn’t telling enough, her knees were up and her legs parted, giving a clear view up her skirt. It was very obvious that she had wet herself. “Are you blackmailing me?” asked Amber. “I guess I am,” said Sam. “I don’t want to send this to anybody. If you do as you’re told, you’re going to have a very embarrassing time, but it won’t leave this house. If you refuse to co-operate, then this goes out to all our friends. Your call.” Amber thought about it, but only briefly. That picture could not get out. She had seen what had happened to Holly, had been part of it, when she had wet herself, and they had all been younger then. She didn’t want everybody knowing her dirty secret. “What do you want me to do?” Amber asked.

My name is Gina. I am 42 and live with my gf (mommy) who is 2 years older than me. We work for the same firm where I met Kathy (mommy). She is a wonderful mom/woman and we have a wonderful relationship. When I am at work I am her equal, but at home I regress to a little girl between the age of 4 to 8. I am in diapers most of the time, even at work. Mommy picks out my clothes every day and is fully in charge of changing my diaper. I don't misbehave often, but when I do I am spanked, sometimes having my mouth washed out and corner time. I look forward to meeting others with similar lives.

Forgive Me Father… Part 1 Caleb stood in the corner of his bedroom rubbing his recently strapped fourteen year-old bottom. His father had laid into him with some power and, despite all attempts to do otherwise; he’d been reduced to a very sorry and tearful teenager. His bottom glowed bright red but unfortunately the rubbing wasn’t relieving the pain. His twin four year-old brothers, Joshua and Daniel, only recently woken, sat huddled together with their mother on their bed completely dumbstruck as their father had punished his eldest son for his misdemeanours. Punishment was rare in the Jefferson household but when it happened it was done in front of the family so no one would be in any doubt as to what transpired if rules were broken. Joshua and Daniel trembled in their bed dressed in the matching pale blue shorty pyjamas, underneath which they wore their night time diapers. They’d witnessed their older brother being stripped and bent over the bed, his pale quivering naked bottom in full view. Their father had listed the things Caleb was being punished for and, despite wishing not to have to do so; it was with God’s gracious guidance that he too had to instil such guidance in his son. Both boys wet their diapers in fear as they watched in horror at the severe punishment their loving brother was being subjected to. # Ever since he was a baby Caleb had worn a diaper under his pyjamas whenever he went to bed. It was a rule his parents had always insisted upon and had become second nature as he grew up. He’d never once questioned why he had to as this was just something he’d always done so wasn’t an issue. Of course the twins now wore them as well and they never questioned the reason, partly because Daniel still occasionally wet as he slept. Caleb wasn’t made to wear them at any other time just at night when he was sleeping. Both his God-fearing parents believed children were most at risk as they slept and a thick diaper was a way of preventing the Devil from doing his dirty work as their offspring slumbered. As well as final nightly prayers they also felt it was a simple and useful precaution for their children in case they had any kind of nocturnal accident. Also, being at peace with God , the rest of the family and themselves when they retired for the night was just good practice - just in case of any unfortunate events or sudden death – best to always be prepared to meet your maker. Even though Caleb himself hadn’t wet the bed for many, many years he was still required to wear them in the same way he wore the rest of his PJs, as he’d known nothing different it didn’t worry him. Recently though, the maturing but easily influenced teenager had found out that none of his friends wore such an item to bed, and although he had seen nothing wrong with it in the past, he was now being ridiculed by his school mates once it became known. He had no idea other parents did not have their children wear such protection to bed, so had innocently admitted to it when asked to write an essay for an English lesson about his home life. This tiny piece of information, in his well-written thesis, was seized upon by the entire class. They demanded to know if he was wearing diapers at that moment and the discussion didn’t calm down until he proved, by shuffling down his chinos, that in fact he wore normal white Y-fronts. From that moment on his normally friendly classmates were relentless in mocking him with baby talk, baby references and sarcastic crying. However, when he returned home full of embarrassment, he questioned his mother as to why he had to wear such an extra piece of thick material at night, when no others in his class did. His mother’s gentle and understanding explanation, though at first pacifying her son, didn’t completely alleviate it. His daily growing despair with the constant ridicule at school meant he was very unhappy. His father had been slightly less understanding, though he too had tried to explain his reasons, though the Devil and his corrupt ways didn’t seem to gain any credence with the young teen. In the end, and despite a few arguments, his father had simply said that whilst he was under his roof, his rules were to be obeyed. “As it says in the Bible” His father announced in all solemnity. “Deuteronomy 5:16 - Honour your father and your mother, as the LORD your God has commanded you, that your days may be prolonged and that it may go well with you on the land which the LORD your God gives you.” As far as his father was concerned that was the end of the matter so no further discussion would be allowed to take place. Caleb understood this quote from the Bible and had done his best to have respect to everyone not just his own family. He was a nice, polite boy and his religious parental upbringing had made him a tribute to their faith. Slow to anger, always helpful, volunteering, he was so unlike most of the other kids he went to school with. However, even though he’d been brought up to believe every word in the Bible was the word of God, he was now, because of his classmates, willing to question why he had to wear a diaper to bed. He couldn’t remember any reference to the Devil visiting anyone in the night. Even though he continued to wear the stipulated item to bed, the fact that he did, began to rankle. “Why?” This wasn’t helped by the fact he was now the talk of the school and the object of fun and derision. He still had mates but even they wondered why he simply didn’t refuse to wear such a childish piece of bedtime attire. As a class they all boasted that under no circumstances would they let their parents make them wear such an item for bed (or otherwise) and they called it a matter for his own honour and pride to reject such treatment. # The house the Jefferson’s lived in was a small two bedroom affair on the edge of town. They were too poor to have a place of their own so to begin with they had shared the house with Caleb’s mother’s mother, his grandma Mrs Eve Broadstone, his grandpappy being long dead. The tight little family unit occupied one bedroom between them, whilst grandma had the other. So, up until he was eight years old, he shared a room with his parents and only got his own once his grandmother passed away. His parents then inherited the place, which was just as well as Thomas Jefferson, Caleb’s father, was not a rich man. Oh, he’d say he was rich, though not in a financial way: He had a beautiful wife in Emily, a healthy son in Caleb, wonderful neighbours and had a close relationship with God, so how much richer could he be? He helped out at the church every week and did odd jobs around the place to stop it falling into ruin. He’d had to do the same with the house they inherited because over the years it had become very rundown. Thomas had been the town’s cobbler, though fashion and affordability of new footwear meant it was an industry on the decline. As it was a business that had never paid well he took to doing odd jobs to make ends meet, so this became his prime means to earn a living. He was an adequate carpenter and would attempt anything he was asked to undertake, but was self-taught and had no real grounding in joinery or plumbing. One day he could be shoring up a building, the next would find him mowing a lawn or sorting out some noisy radiator, or painting the side of a barn… he was very fluid in what he did. Each job was never too much trouble, no task too small and all done with a smile on his face and an even temper. He was well-liked for his attitude, his prices and availability… his time keeping was impeccable. # As an eight year-old Caleb had loved having his own room but after only two years of such ‘spacious luxury’, the Jefferson’s were visited by a surprise package with the arrival of twins. The small house was once again busy and full so Caleb had to get used to sharing all over again. His twin baby brothers soon took over his space with all the things babies need. His, and his family’s, Christian values meant that he couldn’t begrudge them anything so put up with the crying, the changing, the atmosphere that babies produce as they all had to get along in that small space. Now, after four years, he still shared the same room and although he understood why the twins should still wear diapers, the conversations he and his school colleagues were having meant the question “Why did he?” was becoming more and more unsettling. His parents tried to placate their son but he grew tired of their mystifying reasoning, none of it made sense to him and, if they were wrong about this, what else were they wrong about? His mind was in a great deal of turmoil because, as his friends questioned him, so he saw reason to question his parents. Slowly he gravitated more to the way his friends saw things than his parents. Although his mother and father put the twins to bed and made sure they were suitably wrapped up for the night, Caleb was never checked. It was assumed that after all this time he would not go against what his parents wished and he would wear the appropriate protection. However, for the last few nights, after he’d said his prayers and changed into his PJs, the diaper was left off. His parents didn’t know, or even suspected, that their son would disobey their rules. He never had done, so, despite his recent questions, there was no reason to think he might now. They had complete trust in their son. It felt strange and the pangs of guilt kept him awake but, because of what his friends had said, he saw no reason to wear such an item anymore. As his brothers slept soundly in their bed opposite, he tossed and turned at defying his parents. It didn’t sit well on his conscience but neither did the constant harassing by his school mates. His sleeping patterns were all over the place and on the third ‘no diaper’ night the anxiety caused him to do the one thing he never thought would happen - he wet the bed. Not a lot but enough for him to need to change his damp PJs and sheets. As luck would have it both Joshua and Daniel had also wet themselves that morning. And, because it was a Saturday and everyone’s bedding was changed for wash day, he quickly piled all their laundry together and slipped it into the washing machine before his mother was any the wiser. He breathed a sigh of relief when he got praise from her for getting an early start on the family laundry seeing as how it was going to be such a glorious drying day. The problem was he forgot to add his own diaper to the mix so when his mother pegged the wet items out she noticed that his larger fabric squares were missing. At the time she didn’t give it much thought, wondering if perhaps, in his haste to get things going, he’d simply forgotten his own dirty linen. However, a quick inspection of his stripped down bed revealed a slight damp patch on his mattress, which raised her suspicions. Later, whilst Caleb was out for the day playing with his friends, his mother mentioned her misgivings to her husband. Thomas wouldn’t believe his son would flaunt the rules but decided to check on him that night to allay any such worries, though he had to admit the damp bed did raise some questions. That night, when the twins and Caleb were asleep his father surreptitiously checked his son’s PJs and found the diaper in place. This was a relief to Thomas who hated to think his son would do anything contrary to his instructions. Mercifully, after the scare the night before, Caleb was taking no chances and had gladly returned to wearing the night time protection as he always had. The comfort it offered meant that he drifted off very quickly and was able to catch up with all the lost sleep he’d endured whilst not wearing it. He was totally unaware of his father checking on him and was oblivious to the worry he had briefly caused his parents. # Once back at school his friends were still badgering him to know if he’d rebelled at his ‘babyish treatment’, as they called it. Caleb lied and said he no longer wore the item to bed and that his parents were now cool with his decision. The ribbing from his mates began to die down, much to the fourteen year-old’s relief. However, he now found he had another problem. He’d lied and in so doing knew that the Lord would not react well to such effrontery to his parents rules. Not only that… he’d lied to his friends but the continuous taunts of being a ‘wickle baby’ had got to him and despite what the Bible said, he found it hard to turn the other cheek. In fact, the pressure from his peers was getting more intensified and he was being dragged into areas where he was most uncomfortable. The other problem he had was he desperately wanted to be accepted. This ‘baby thing’ had been a crushing blow to his self-esteem and he knew that it would hang over him if he couldn’t prove he was just as much of a teenager as the rest of the gang. Despite the way he’d been brought up; the loving, forgiving, empathetic rules his parents had always displayed, he found his friend’s ideas and thoughts were beginning to have more influence. He was agreeing with actions he would once have run a mile from and even found himself in trouble for being a part of the group who’d played a nasty prank on one of the teachers. The rest of the group just laughed it off but he struggled. However, once he’d misbehaved and the acceptance from his peers had been so inclusive, he hung around with them and found he was being involved in more and more teenage revolt as they challenged everything around them. Caleb was caught up in this revolution. At first he didn’t like it but his fourteen year-old mind, and all his mates, were telling him he needed to be less under his parent’s authority. Most nights at home he’d stopped wearing his diaper to bed. He’d been lucky that his parents had only checked him that once. However, because he became a little bit surly, and more aggravated by sharing his room with his little brothers, his father told him in no uncertain terms that such attitude to the rest of the family would not be tolerated. He went to school thoroughly chastised and resentful and when a few of his pals suggested they should just bunk off for the day, despite the fact he knew it was wrong, he agreed to go with them. They spent the afternoon at one of the boy’s homes, drinking the father’s beer and smoking, neither of which Caleb had ever done before. The other boys laughed as he struggled with both alcohol and tobacco but he wanted desperately to impress. The boy raided his father’s booze cabinet and slipped a large amount of vodka into the beer Caleb was drinking. They urged him to down it in one to prove he wasn’t a wuss and a second bottle of beer was doctored in the same way. To the amusement of his pals, a slurry and dizzy Caleb found it hard to focus as a game of ‘dare’ developed. With inhibitions down and eager to prove himself he took up the challenges and found himself stealing clothing off a neighbour’s washing line. He arrived back to his pals giggling as he produced a couple of pairs of girl’s panties, a summer dress, fabric diapers and a variety of colourful kiddie and baby clothes, including a couple of pairs of plastic pants. He had no idea what he’d collected he’d just grabbed the first few things available. Unfortunately, he’d been spotted. # A knock on the front door and the general mayhem of a group of startled, drunken, frightened boys, hightailed it out an open back window heading in opposite directions. When he got home he rushed past his mother with barely any acknowledgment and made his way to his bedroom. A slight stumble gave her a chance to notice the smoky smell on his clothes, which also gave her the opportunity to inspect him more closely. Unfortunately for him she detected his insobriety and that he looked nervous and skittish. She didn’t say anything just let him continue to his bed. He crashed out, grateful for being home and able to rest his spinning head. He fell asleep. Whilst he dozed his father returned home, more or less at the same time the neighbour who’d had clothes stolen off their washing line was explaining the afternoon’s events. She’d also brought the bunch of creased and now dirty washing with her as evidence. Her anger at her next door neighbour’s boy was evident but she couldn’t understand why a respectable boy like Caleb would do such a thing. When Thomas had heard the story he decided to let the boy sleep it off but in the morning he’d be in a great deal of trouble and have a painful lesson to learn. Although it was late afternoon when Caleb had arrived home he’d completely crashed out and only woke up for a few moments late in the night. Everything was dark and the house quiet as he stumbled to the bathroom. He was still quite unsteady on his feet and felt incredibly light-headed; the unaccustomed alcohol certainly had an effect. His bladder was almost bursting by the time he’d manoeuvred himself in front of the toilet and it was with pure relief he let things flow. Unfortunately, his aim was ineffective as he missed the bowl and not only pissed all over the floor but down the front of his school chinos. He was unaware of the mess he’d made as he stumbled back to his bed, attempting not to wake up his sleeping brothers, thus returning to his warm and welcoming bed. He eventually woke up when bright morning light rushed in through the windows as the drapes were pulled back. Groggily Caleb squinted into the day only to see his father looking down at him. Another cursory glance saw his mother hugging his twin brothers as they sat up in bed looking somewhat shocked back at him. “Caleb.” His father’s voice was commanding but he wasn’t shouting. “Caleb.” “Whhhaaaat?” Caleb groaned. With his head still throbbing he wasn’t at his best this morning and just wanted to sleep a little longer. “Time to get up Caleb.” His father was firm but didn’t sound angry. “Just a few more minutes please papa.” There was a tired whine to his request. “Up. NOW.” His father’s voice was now very forceful and Caleb knew he needed to do as he was told. Slowly and with some difficulty he eventually sat up. His eyes still not quite focused but his father told him to stand. Reluctantly Caleb got to his feet and shrugged. His father launched straight into his questions. “Where were you yesterday?” “At school papa.” Caleb mumbled his lying reply. “All day?” His father persisted. “Hu-huh.” He confirmed. “So, explain this.” His father pointed to the dark wet stain down the front of his trousers. “Er, mmmm, erm… must have had an accident.” “Your bed is wet through… did you have an accident there as well?” None of this was making much sense to the still woozy Caleb who wasn’t thinking straight at all. Indeed, he felt pretty sick in the pit of his stomach and realised desperately needed to pee again. “Excuse me papa but I think I need the …” “Not yet my boy. You have some explaining to do.” He held up the bunch of stolen clothes and asked him to explain what they were. Caleb just shrugged and slurred he had never seen them before. His mind still wasn’t working right but, from what his friends had said in the past: “Deny everything it’s up to others to prove it.” At that moment, and with that thought in his head, he smiled at his father and denied everything. He didn’t know that whilst he slept off his drunken binge, a call around the neighbours and to school that evening meant his father had been able to quickly piece together the day’s events. The stolen washing was still being held and shaken in front of Caleb’s face. He thought he was safe as he suspected no one knew him where he’d been drinking with his pals, except, everyone knew the Jefferson kids and especially Caleb. He was regarded as a polite, honest, industrious type of lad that other parents wished their child could be like. His regular attendance at church and of course his father’s commitment to church affairs and the like, meant they were a very well-liked and respected family in the community. Caleb found under his father’s questioning his resolve begin to falter. He found it difficult to keep up a lie and suspected he knew more than he was saying. The urge to pee was getting stronger but his queasy stomach was not only a feeling of being sick, it churned with guilt. Under his father’s interrogation he found himself lying and then having to admit to things that he’d done. In the end Thomas had extracted a complete confession as to what had really taken place and although Caleb had tried to lay the blame at being treated as a child, none of that argument worked. Eventually his father told him to take off his urine stained trousers. With his mother and brother’s looking on, he slowly removed them. He was left standing in his damp and yellowing briefs when his father told him to remove them also. Reluctantly, he did as requested and stood hiding his boyhood behind cupped hands. He knew he was in for some kind of punishment but didn’t know exactly how that was going to take place. “Bend over and smell your bed” His father’s words were strange and Caleb was slow to do as commanded. “Smell your sinful bed. This isn’t the first time you’ve wet it is it?” Caleb realised they must know about the time he hadn’t worn his diaper. “No papa, I wasn’t wearing a diaper.” “The rule of this house is, until children leave home… for their protection, safety and to keep them from many of the corruptions of this world… a diaper is worn for sleep. Correct?” “Er,” He was desperate to find an excuse but nothing was coming and his bladder was hurting. He feared peeing himself but also knew he was in no position to ask for permission to visit the toilet. In the end, to speed things up he agreed that was the rule. “Yes papa.” “Now, smell the mattress… the stench of not obeying rules” He saw he had little option. With his mother and the twins looking on he bent over and inhaled the tainted fabric and the heady smell of his wet crimes. “Your young brothers don’t wet the bed and nor should you. Take a deep breath…” Caleb did as he was told and a wave of nausea swept through his body. “Your diaper would have prevented any such accidents, but you think you’re such a big boy and no longer need either physical or religious protection.” “No papa… sorry papa.” He tried to get up but his father pushed him back into position. The loud crack that followed was unexpected by both Caleb and the twins. His father had swung a leather strap he’d concealed behind his back and made heavy contact with his son’s pale bottom. The yelp could be heard several blocks away to anyone who had ears. Caleb, shocked and shaking tried to rise. “Stay where you are.” The order wasn’t one he could ignore and a tremble of just what was in store shook his body. “Forgive me father I…” Crack Caleb’s words were cut off by the searing pain that ricocheted throughout his body. He tried to stand again but his father was determined he should stay just where he was. Embarrassed or not by his humiliating position his father delivered more hefty wallops to his son’s rapidly reddening posterior. With every thundering smack Caleb yelled for forgiveness, whilst his father delivered a litany of religious quotes. His crimes; his smoking, his underage drinking, his truancy, his choice of friends, his stealing, his lack of respect for family and himself – everything his schoolmates had assured him were positives in his escape from babyhood, was coming back to painfully haunt him. His father knew he wasn’t by choice a naughty boy but was determined that as the Lord offered guidance to his children, so he had to do the same with his. The strap landed many times and a wailing Caleb was left in no doubt he had done wrong. His brothers looked scared as they saw their older brother punished in such a fashion but this was Thomas’s idea, to make an example – This is what happens when you don’t follow the rules. Although it could be contended that at only four years old they wouldn’t necessarily know right from wrong, their parents hoped that such a visual demonstration would have a lifetime effect and keep them on the straight and narrow. It did have an effect and both Joshua and Daniel wet their diapers as they witnessed the horror of their brother’s brutal treatment. They weren’t the only ones, Caleb also could not hold onto his full bladder and a stream of piss hit the bed and floor as the eleventh stinging strike caused him to cry out louder for forgiveness. # Once the punishment was over Thomas helped his son to his feet and hugged him. “I don’t like to discipline you… you are a good boy but, and this is why you have been chastised so severely… you are getting influences from the wrong people and you are acting against the family. This I cannot allow.” He held his son who was sobbing and rubbing his very sore and inflamed bottom. “Your friends will no doubt be chastised by their parents but you’re my responsibility and I’m not going to let you ruin your life for the benefit of some thoughtless… and Godless young hoodlums.” He patted his son’s red bottom as if to make the point. “For the foreseeable future you are banned from meeting with them and at school your contact must be kept to the absolute minimum. Do you understand?” Caleb couldn’t get any words out he was still shaking in terror at what had just taken place. Never had his father reacted in such a way and he was completely scared of what this man, this man he called papa, might do next. “There are several things you need to take on board.” He held up the stolen washing. “You will wash, iron and return these items to the lady you stole them from.” He waited until he could see his son take notice of what he had said. “As you appear to like baby clothes…” Thomas held up the item in an undisguised motion that meant ‘what a strange choice’ “A diaper will be a permanent part of your wardrobe … day and night. If for any reason you are seen without it, and there will be many checks, you will receive double what you have just experienced. Is that clear?” Caleb was still shaking but he dare not fail to respond so nodded. “Good. Now, after school, and in any spare time you have, you will read the Bible and reflect on what has happened. I understand you are growing up but there are better influences around than your so-called friends.” He paused to make sure his shaking son understood what he was saying. “You will be tested once a week on what you have learned.” He spoke directly into his son’s tearful face. “When I think you are capable of understanding the word of God is the only truth and the only guidance you need, then the diaper punishment will be re-thought.” He hugged his son again. “Despite not honouring your father and mother… the Lord forgives you and we forgive you. We love you very much Caleb, we want what’s best for you… you should want it for yourself as well.” The tears that had lessened began to pour once again and Caleb wept inconsolably as his father led him to a corner of the room. “Now, whilst your mother gets Joshua and Daniel ready for the day you need to think about what you have done and how you are going to make it up to those you have disappointed. When your mother has finished with the twins she will attend to you, no argument, no fuss, you will do what you are told.” # As Mrs Jefferson removed the twins soaked diapers and cleaned them up she wondered if this was what she was going to be doing for her eldest every morning. Caleb tried to rub the pain from his tanned and purple backside but didn’t dare turn round and look at his mother. He was just too ashamed. Once the twins had been calmed, dressed and sent out to play she began to sort out the rest. She stripped Caleb’s bed and rummaged around in a cupboard until she found what she was looking for. Emily Jefferson sighed, even the twins didn’t need this sort of protection on their beds but her husband had insisted. She pulled a thick plastic sheet over his mattress and then told him to come over. She gave him a cloth so he could mop up the puddle of pee he’d made that hadn’t already been soaked up by his bedding. He noticed the pile of diapers and stuff normally reserved for the twins was laid out on his bed and knew what was in store for him as he tentatively wiped away at the wet patch he’d made. Once that was all done he winced again as he was told to lie out. With a deep sigh of resignation he lay on the cool plastic sheet, his bottom reacting to the slinky, cool surface as he tried to get comfortable. Eventually his mother started to clean him up. Caleb clenched his teeth as she rubbed soothing ointment onto his inflamed buttocks, he knew she wasn’t trying to hurt him but it stung nonetheless. After a few embarrassing moments she spoke. “I don’t know what you were thinking…” She held up her hand as if to say ‘and I don’t want to know’. “But by stealing those baby’s clothes your father has decreed it must be some kind of cry for help.” She waited to see if there was any kind of reaction but there wasn’t he just lay with eyes tightly clenched trying to will away the pain in his buttocks. “Either that or you just want to be babied.” His mother wasn’t being cruel; she really didn’t know what had happened to her loving and polite son because he’d changed so abruptly. Through his pain and trembling body that word had come back to haunt him - ‘babied’. It was the word his friends had used to describe his diaper wearing. It was the term they used constantly to undermine and shut him out of things. It was the word that had driven him to prove himself he was not a baby; he could be as adventurous and mischievous as anyone else. Tears began streaming down his face once again as he realised things were not going to get better. “Whatever the reason, it’s diapers permanently for you now.” His brothers didn’t wear diapers during the day only when they went to bed. So, now he would be treated like the baby of the family and all that entailed. With purpose she slipped a cloth diaper under his swollen bottom and let the baby powder drift down to mingle with the anti-diaper rash cream before pulling the thick material up between his legs and pinning it into place. His mind was trying to tune out what was happening but he knew there was no escaping this extra punishment. In some ways he believed what his father had said – the Lord doesn’t take kindly to his, and therefore by inference, his father’s rules being ignored. “Right, that’s that done.” She said with some pride. Caleb dare not look down to witness his return to being treated as a toddler. He could feel the thickness between his legs and the tightness of the fabric bunching around his groin. Unfortunately for him keeping his eyes closed wasn’t an option as his mother confirmed by indicating the pile of stolen items. “You have work to do,” she said with no hint of anger just a simple fact. Hesitantly, he spun off his bed, the slippery plastic sheet making his transition a great deal easier. The throbbing of his bottom was still quite intense but the padding and creams were going some way to alleviate the pain. He searched around for some trousers to slip over the bulky item making him walk strangely but his mother informed him his father’s instructions were – diaper only. “But mama…” His protest died on his lips. He fought back another surge of emotion. Tears appeared but he didn’t want them to fall realising that they would do no good as his father had spoken. Hesitatingly, he took the pile of clothes from his mother and went to the kitchen where the washing machine was and loaded it up. Thomas was getting his tools ready for another day out fixing and repairing things. “Sorry papa.” Caleb meekly said as he waddled slowly past his father. “That’s all right son. Has your mother made clear my instructions?” “Yes papa, I have to wash, iron and return these items and apologise to Mrs Rendle.” The words caught in his throat as he dreaded having to see his neighbour dressed as he was. “Papa, might I wear some , er, jeans or er, something when I see her?” His father thought for a moment. “Tell me Caleb, why did you steal those items?” The boy shook his head. He knew he couldn’t use being drunk as an excuse, or that he was goaded by his fellow truants, but he had no idea why he had in fact taken those particular pieces of clothing. “Why those particular items?” His father insisted. Caleb assumed that there was no real reason behind the choice; they were just the first things he came to. He shrugged unable to answer in any concise way. “Mrs Rendle saw you. She says that you apparently ran past other items before you stopped at these and paused before deciding to take them.” Thomas paused to see if his words sunk in. “The lady isn’t the fittest person on the block so wasn’t able to stop you from what you were doing but she is certain that you aimed for those specific things hanging on her line.” A cool shiver ran down Caleb’s spine. “She suggested that seeing as you wanted them so much, you should be given some of your own… it didn’t seem a bad idea.” “Ohhh” He turned on the washing machine and looked down at his feet. He comprehended the angry lady’s logic and why his diapers were now his only clothes. Crestfallen he walked back to his father who was just about to leave. “I’m really very sorry papa.” Thomas put his hand on his remorseful son’s shoulder and spoke softly. “I know you are Caleb… and I’m sure you’ll get over this but… you have to understand that all actions have consequences. If you knew what those consequences were going to be… would you still have done them?” “No papa.” “Read the Bible son all your answers are there. As it says in Galatians - Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. “Yes papa.” # His father left for his day’s work and Caleb sat at the table thinking about his father’s words. The thickness of his diaper offering some relief to his aching buttocks but he knew it would be another few days before the inflammation would settle down. In the meantime he’d have to get used to walking with a thick, well-padded piece of material between his legs. He knew that everyone would be able to tell and dreaded returning to school but also knew that his father was doing this for a reason and not just to embarrass him. His mother gathered up the twins and went shopping leaving Caleb on his own to reflect on what had happened over the past few hours. In the interim, told to study the Bible, and not wishing to be seen anywhere dressed as he was, he settled down to do just that. His bottom still throbbed but there was no doubt about it, the padding certainly helped as he sat on his crinkly bed and read the sacred words. A tract from the Bible entered his head. Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. # To be continued…. Part 2 Proverbs 29:15 The rod and reproof give wisdom, but a child who gets his own way brings shame to his mother. Justifying his actions as reparation Thomas then steered his son to his other duty. Caleb arrived at the Rendle property at 6.30pm and knocked on the door. Held all neatly pressed and folded were the stolen items; on top of which, and to his total embarrassment, were a pair of young girl’s nylon panties and the baby’s plastic pants. Caleb stood there waiting for an answer. He felt anxious and self-conscious because all he was wearing was a thick diaper but knew he had to go through with this if he was to prove to his father that he understood the error of his ways. His flaming bottom also making sure he knew what to expect if he transgressed again. Mrs Rendle answered the door clutching her nine month old daughter to her shoulder. The overweight lady not looking quite as fierce as he imagined she would. “Come in young…” she looked him up and down, “man?” He entered the house and was confronted by Mr Rendle and his two other daughters, Pixie aged five and Jenny aged nine. Caleb presented the clothing to anyone who would take it from his arms as he visibly shook with nerves. “Mr, er and Mrs Rendle,” Caleb was desperate to get this over with as quickly as possible. “Please forgive me for my stupid and immature actions… and I er, umm, apologise for the inconvenience I have caused.” He’d been rehearsing his little speech all day but it still sounded muffled as anxiety got the better of him. On top of that, his sore and purple bottom suddenly became more uncomfortable trapped in his diaper. Whereas the thickness had offered some support and relief, here, and with this family, it felt distinctly awkward. The Rendle’s looked at him with contempt in their eyes. He shuffled uncomfortably. They could have just laughed at the teenager in a diaper holding out panties, and baby clothes as if for inspection but Mrs Rendle in particular was fed up with the way teenagers in the area acted with such disrespect. She’d wished that this boy’s drinking pals had been punished the way he had and were also in her living room to apologise. Unfortunately, they weren’t and suspected they would have either gotten off scot-free or merely been grounded for the day. Mrs Adaline Rendle had a very low opinion of today’s youth (and most of their parents) but welcomed Thomas Jefferson’s way of dealing with his wayward son. Unaware that it was her brief angry conversation and suggestion that had made them think of such a punishment. A biblical reference to ‘he who lives by the sword dies by the sword’ briefly flittered into her mind. Although they weren’t a religious family so couldn’t be certain the quote had much to do with the way Caleb’s father had made him wear something similar to what he’d stolen, it did seem more than a little apt. “I see your father has realised you are still just a baby.” Mrs Rendle said scornfully. Caleb hadn’t expected anything but a swift apology and hopefully an equally hasty exit. Now being the centre of attention and being quizzed he was totally unprepared for a family intent on humiliation. Under such scrutiny the diaper felt even more cumbersome. His raw bottom had yet to stop hurting and he could still feel each sting of his father’s strap across his buttocks. He quaked in his trainers. He had to get this right because if he didn’t, he feared a repeat visit from that painful instrument. “Mmm, yes ma-am.” Because of the circumstances he was forced to quietly agree. Still no one had relieved him of the bundle of clothes so there was very little he could do except stand and wait. The baby held in Mrs Rendle’s arms began to get a little irritable and start to cry. Caleb wanted out as soon as possible and reiterated his apology and asked for someone to take the clothes he was holding. Mrs Rendle found a pacifier for her baby daughter, which calmed her down. “Please can someone take these clothes? I’ve washed…” Caleb was getting desperate and under such scrutiny found he desperately needed a pee. He flushed red with embarrassment at the prospect of wetting himself in front of these people who already despised him but saw no imminent escape. No one appeared in a hurry to do anything. He was worried. # Eventually Jenny stepped forward and plucked her panties from the top of the pile. The look of disgust that passed between her and the teenage culprit was intense and made Caleb swallow uneasily. “Why did you want my panties?” She asked and for which the perpetrator had no answer. “Er, erm, er, I’m sorry it was just a silly dare… I didn’t…” But he could see his words were not having any effect, although with his nervousness the need to pee was getting much stronger and wriggled uneasily in his diaper. The baby’s plastic pants were now on view and Mrs Rendle demanded to know why he was so desperate for a pair of her baby daughter’s vinyl pants. “Something more appropriate to your age I suspect.” The sound of derision in her voice left him trembling. Again he had no answer and stammered his apologies once more. This was going a lot worse than he could possibly imagine. Mrs Rendle saw the gibbering and frightened teen begin to hyperventilate and offered her baby daughter’s pacifier to soothe his anxiety. Caleb swallowed hard but shook his head; he hadn’t understood the ridicule in the offer. Although at that moment anything to take his mind off this hostile inspection would have been gratefully received. Mr Rendle had stayed silent throughout these exchanges but now stepped forward and stood directly in front of the offender. He was a big man himself and towered over the teen. # He grabbed the panties off his daughter and flung them back on the pile Caleb was still holding. “You have violated my family. It may have been a, a, a, prank,” he stuttered with disgust, “but you have sullied those clothes forever by your thoughtless actions. I wouldn’t feel I’d done my duty if I let my children wear something you’d… tainted by your actions” The last words were delivered with such loathing Caleb took a step back from his accuser. What had been just a silly dare to him and his friends had become a major incident as far as this family were concerned. He wasn’t to know the constant acts of petty vandalism and unsocial activities by their thoughtless neighbours had been brought to a head by this particular stupid act. As a family they were seething with righteous indignation. For a moment Caleb thought he was in danger of being hit by this irate man and that urge to pee no longer became an urge. Unfortunately, once he’d started he found it difficult to stop. He felt the full weight of his misdemeanours hang heavy on his shoulders and then in his diaper as the warmth spread around his groin. The front of his diaper began to turn yellow and he wished the ground would swallow him whole. Tears sprung into his eyes as he stared at the scary man looming with utter contempt but couldn’t turn away. He was getting no sympathy but still hardly dare move, he was terrified of what was happening and what still might. Mrs Rendle saw what was transpiring and although she seemed satisfied with the boy’s discomfiture (they’d been subjected to a lot worse over the years), thought the confrontation had reached its obvious conclusion. Besides, his wetting just went to prove what she always thought of today’s young people – they were nothing but thoughtless, helpless babies in need of constant supervision but when brought to book for their misdeeds would just crumble. She didn’t bring the wet diaper to anyone’s attention but merely told him to go, and to take all the defiled clothing with him. “You wanted them, they’re yours now… and I hope your parents make sure you think about what you’ve done every day.” Even without Mrs Rendle pointing out his wet diaper it was inconceivable that the rest of the family didn’t notice - he’d let loose a flood. # Caleb was shocked, soaked and sobbing as the door slammed shut behind him. The long walk home wearing a soggy and sagging diaper, whilst carrying a bunch of baby clothes, was quite ironic, although the irony failed to register. He ran, clutching the items to his groin, desperate to hide the yellowing fabric and get home as soon as possible. The saturated diaper hindered his progress as it began to slip and bunch up between his thighs and knees, so constantly found himself having to tug it up to prevent from revealing his total naked shame. Oblivious to the catcalls, comments and laughter a teenage boy in a diaper caused in the neighbourhood, a mile and a half later he was grateful to be back home. His mother was there as he ran through the doorway heading for the bedroom. “Stop.” Caleb didn’t want to, he wanted to get out of his soaked and itchy diaper as soon as possible but his mother’s command couldn’t be ignored. Emily saw the pile of clothing gripped tightly to his groin. “Weren’t the Rendle’s in?” “Yes mama, but, er, but, they, er, they said I’d sullied these items and I should keep them… erm… as a reminder.” “I see. So they think these should be a part of your punishment from now on…? “I s’pose so, but mama, I apologised, I asked to be forgiven, I, I, I…” His explanation just wasn’t working… also… his diaper had begun to slip further down his legs. Emily noticed the sodden item and asked for an explanation as to why he’d wet himself. He teared up. “I was afraid Mr Rendle was going to hit me.” “Did he threaten you?” She was anxious to know the details as threatening her son would not have gone down well with her. “No, no his daughters and Mrs Rendle were there he just said that I, I, I disgusted him.” “But did he threaten you?” “No mama (sob) I was just scared and ashamed and … ohh mama, what am I going to do?” She hugged her son. “Well, for a start… let’s get you out of this.” She gently pulled at the sagging diaper and guided Caleb, still clutching the baby clothes, through to his bedroom. The plastic sheet still covered the mattress and his new bedding was waiting all folded to be made up. He wasn’t sure what to do with the bundle he carried so his mother relieved him and placed them on top of a chest of drawers. She indicated he should lie out once again but Caleb suggested that perhaps he should do it. “Maybe in future you will,” she said to relieve his fears, “but for the moment I need to make sure your bruised bottom is tended to and that everything is okay. However, before I do all that we need to get you out of this soaked diaper.” She went to the drawers and took out a couple of the fabric diapers he’d normally wear for sleeping in. She also produced a small packet which Caleb hadn’t seen before. As she set the various items needed on the bed Caleb noticed the package said ‘Vinyl Pants for the incontinent young adult’. “Mama, surely you’re not going to put me in… them.” She shrugged. He pleaded. “But mama, Daniel needs them because otherwise he’d wet the bed, I don’t. Oh… please mama, don’t make me wear them.” # The fourteen year-old was in turmoil. He knew that if he kicked up too much of a fuss his father might just revisit him with the strap and, despite his reluctance, there was really very little he could do. His mother asked a simple question. “Have you just come home in a wet diaper?” There in the soiled diaper his mother was unpinning any argument was lost. “Please mama, don’t.” His humiliation continued as his mother cleaned him up, rubbed antiseptic cream into his red bottom and smeared another lotion around his genitals before fitting him back into a bright white clean diaper. She then inched further plastic protection up his legs and made him stand as she checked that everything was inside the vinyl barrier. Caleb wanted to cry at this latest indignity. “You might as well get used to it young man because this is what you’ll be wearing about the house.” The shame Caleb felt as he crinkled with the slightest movement was intense. “But mama, Joshua and Daniel don’t have to wear there’s around the house…” “No they don’t… and they haven’t stolen things off a washing line, been drunk, wet the bed or caused our neighbours to wonder what type of son we are bringing up to be so disrespectful to people and property....” Obviously his mother had been holding back her own personal judgement on his behaviour for some time. Her outburst left him cowed and shamefaced. “…and haven’t just wet themselves in public.” He had no defence, it was all true. “Just so you’re in no doubt, you will not only be wearing this for bed.” She smoothed down the shiny though noisy plastic over his tightly pinned diaper. “As we no longer trust you we need to see at all times you’re wearing what we say… so… no pyjamas. Either your father or I will check you when you’re put to bed and when you wake up. I think you know what to expect if any part of this rule is not completely adhered to.” He remembered one of his father’s recent Bible quotes: Deuteronomy 21:18-21 "If any man has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey his father or his mother, and when they chastise him, he will not even listen to them, then his father and mother shall seize him, and bring him out to the elders of his city at the gateway of his hometown. "They shall say to the elders of his city, 'This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey us, he is a glutton and a drunkard.' “Then all the men of his city shall stone him to death; so you shall remove the evil from your midst...” Caleb shook at the enormity of what he could expect. The Bible was unflinching when it came to obeying your parents. Meanwhile, Emily continued with her clarification of the new set of rules. “You will also be going to bed at the same time as your brothers.” He peered up ready to try and argue his position but the expression of determination on his mama’s face made any such attempt a foregone conclusion. He was dressed as a toddler so couldn’t complain seeing as he was being treated as one. Any hope that his father might relent was equally a lost cause. “Yes mama.” # He knew arguing had got him into this position so there was absolutely nothing to be gained by going down that track again. He simply had to observe these new rules if more painful punishment was to be avoided. Thankfully, the lotion his mama had rubbed into his bottom had relieved some of the pain, whilst the other cream around his genitals had left a warming glow just like when he’d wet himself at the Rendle’s. If the diaper wasn’t enough, the crinkly, rustling sound he made as he walked was a permanent reminder of his situation. He had to put up with the childish giggling from the twins as they noticed and patted his bottom in curiosity. Just the slightest touch was a jolt to just how fiercely he’d been strapped, but in truth, he couldn’t blame them for being inquisitive. When bedtime came and the boys were made ready for ‘ni-nights’, Caleb was quite envious that they got to wear their shorty ‘jim-jams’ over bulky diapers. Meanwhile, he knelt at the side of his bed and said his prayers aloud so that his parents could hear. The silky mass of his vinyl pants glistened in the subdued lighting. As his mother affirmed, other than a t-shirt he wasn’t allowed anything else though wondered if he’d ever get to sleep at such an early hour. Especially as the bottom sheet on his bed was also now plastic and made more noise than his vinyl pants. He lay exhausted, hot and uncomfortable as he ruminated on the day. The light was turned out and for a short while all was quiet. Then, after a brief whispered childish discussion, both Joshua and Daniel crawled from their bed and into Caleb’s. They didn’t appear to worry too much about the noise the bed made as they found space to be near him. Not another word was said, they knew talking after lights out was forbidden. It had been their first opportunity to make sure Caleb was okay, as they embraced to prove they still loved him. Notwithstanding his still throbbing bottom, they spent the night snuggled up and he enjoyed their little warm padded bodies curled against his own. He wanted to show his brothers (even with silent thanks) he loved them right back. Later both parents looked in on their sleeping brood and were heartened by the affectionate way their boys bonded. They were proud that even at such a young age the twins wanted to show their love for their brother. Despite what had so recently taken place, the Jefferson household believed firmly in the power of family love. Corinthians 13:13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. The soft rustling of diapers and plastic sheets accompanied every little movement but didn’t seem to interfere with the trio’s untroubled sleep. # In the morning their father was the one to wake them up for church. Joshua and Daniel stretched and were lifted from Caleb’s bed and mama started to get them ready. Caleb was surprisingly the last to wake up. He felt flushed and uncomfortable as his diaper had ridden up and the plastic pants had maintained all his body heat. His diaper was damp but he didn’t think he’d peed. Thomas checked his son and nodded for him to get up and have a shower before church. As Caleb pulled down his plastic pants he realised just how hot he was as the cool morning air rushed in. The fabric did feel quite wet but was certain he hadn’t had an accident in the night. However, a bigger surprise waited for him when he lowered his heavy diaper. There, nestled among the soft fabric were a host of tiny black hairs. At first he wasn’t sure what they could be until he felt his smooth penis and balls and grasped that all his pubic hair was now in the folds of the damp material. Horrified he looked down at the once proud area that proved he was growing up. At school, in the shower after gym or sports, most of the boys showed off that they had pubes – it was a symbol, a symbol he no longer had. In the hierarchy of classmates, those without pubes were teased and it was often they who searched the locker room for their missing underwear – boys always finding ways of further humiliating other boys. He was more sad than angry. It was just the inevitability of the process – he was going to be reduced to the same status as his brothers. He wished it wasn’t so but, after the way he’d been punished, he saw no way of defying what was happening. Perhaps, returning him to childhood was part of his parents plan. He’d heard his father quote another verse from the Bible to his mother. Matthew 18:2-6 And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea. However, the shower proved to be a strange affair. Soaping up his hairless, smooth genitals had a strange, non-biblical effect. There was a certain soft, silky sensation that he’d never recognised before… and he liked it. The other strange thing was, as he soaped his badly bruised bottom, the heat and pain from that had diminished significantly though he didn’t know why. Once he was out of the shower his bed was again laden with diapers and related paraphernalia with his mama waiting. She patted the side of the bed and indicated he lay out. She checked that all his pubic hair had been removed and smiled. “Oh good, that particular cream seems to have worked perfectly.” She stroked his naked bottom. “That also seems to be coming along nicely… we’ll soon have everything back as it should be.” She beamed down at her shy son saying he looked a lot tidier, and, with a sprinkle of powder, added that the entire area was now so much more hygienic. “Yes mama.” Was the only reply he could think of as she covered him in cream, bundled him into a thick diaper, pinned him snuggly in and had him step into another pair of crinkly plastic pants. His Sunday special church clothes were always hung up and ready but this time instead of his pressed grey trousers he was given the same style of grey shorts his little brothers wore. Once again his deep sigh said everything that needed to be said. His parents were making a very heavy point that, by his actions, he was still a child and, like his younger brothers, needed guidance. The fact that he’d stolen so many baby items was coming back to haunt him in a big way. There was no point in arguing and assumed everyone at the church would know he was being punished for what he’d done. It was a small town so word got around fairly quickly and Caleb’s crimes were not going to be hidden, that was not the way Thomas and Emily Jefferson dealt with things. Open and honest in all their dealings, even if their methods weren’t to everyone’s taste. Their three boys looked a picture as they walked into the morning service - white shirts, blue ties, blue knee-length socks and their matching grey shorts. All eyes were on Caleb, his short trousers offering little disguise as he crinkled with each shameful step, whilst the heat of guilt flushed through his system. His trip to the Rendle’s wearing only a diaper had become the talk of the town. Some parents were disgusted at treating a teenager in such a barbaric fashion, though the majority of attendees at the church approved of his parent’s system of reining in such bad behaviour. With Joshua and Daniel sitting either side of him Caleb stood out as the service progressed. The Reverend added extra emphasis to his sermon about obeying your parents as well as the Lord. The ‘Amens’ that followed were probably the loudest response he’d had for quite some time. No matter how hard he tried to blend in there was no doubt that Caleb was the centre of attention. He could feel the trickles of guilt running down his skin and collecting at the small of his back. Under his arms and between his newly bared pubic area pools of sweat were gathering. Helped by the thick vinyl pants, the hot morning and his guilty conscience, the pristine diaper was already soaked through. Throughout the service he could feel eyes on his back. People were stretching to see his thick diaper and it wasn’t difficult as every time he stood to sing the hymns, his crinkly, rustling pants attracted attention. It seemed that the entire sermon was directed at him as the shame of what he’d done became magnified by each word the Reverend uttered. Caleb prayed that his punishment would soon be over but until it was, he promised the Lord to obey every word his parents spoke and put up with the penalty they thought the crime deserved. Stealing baby clothes meant he was destined for the time being at least to wearing them. He’d hated the privately administered strap and he hated the public diaper but of the two, the diaper was by far the easiest to cope with. He feared another beating and, had he been offered a choice, he’d have settled for the diaper. However, his parents had reduced him to being a dependent child so the decision was not of his choosing. # There was no quick escape after the service either as his parents chatted with other parishioners. He was standing slightly away from them keeping the twins entertained until it was time to return home. The boys were always happy to spend time with their older brother so were childishly chatting away, finding things to ask and keeping him occupied like only two curious four year-olds can. Whenever Caleb dared scan the surrounding faces he could see looks and nods in his direction from groups who gathered for their weekly after-church gossip and suspected he was the main topic of conversation. There were smiles, grimaces and disdain mixed in with laughter and shakes of the head. One of the boys he’d truanted with, Gary, and who was in on the binge was also standing quietly by the side of his parents. They hadn’t put him in shorts but there was no doubt about it, the normally noisy and loud classmate was greatly subdued. Guiltily he looked away when the two boy’s eyes met across the road. Caleb saw the look of anger on his parents face when he began to whine about going home and the scared expression when his father murmured something in his ear and pointed accusingly across the road to him. Gary immediately stopped talking, stood to attention and it looked like tears were not far away. Whatever his father had said made an impact that silenced his ill-disciplined son and to fear the implied repercussions. Under such an unsympathetic look the sweating teen experienced further nervous rivulets cascade down his back. He trembled under such constant and withering reproach and wished he could just hide away. However, the twins soon drew Caleb back as they begged to go to the nearby play ground where some of their friends were already screaming with joy on the apparatus. His father nodded ascent so the damp teen was grateful to get away from the penetrating, judgemental stares and push his brothers on the swings. His diaper felt full and wet, the rustle from his plastic pants accompanied each movement but his shorts hardly hid any of this. Normally, on such a sunny morning he’d be leading his brothers in some kind of adventure in the park. However, for the moment his general love of life had left him and he just wanted to keep himself to himself. He knew this punishment wasn’t meant to simply humiliate him… but it did. How he wished he could turn back time and avoid all the unforeseen problems mentioning diapers in his school essay had caused. A few older boys wandered over intent on riling Caleb by mocking his tight little shorts, comparing him with his toddler brothers and generally belittling him. Caleb knew he couldn’t respond for fear of reprisals, both from the boys and his father if he got into further trouble. The Bible said to turn the other cheek, so, no matter how difficult it was, he had to prove he could do just that. He didn’t rise to the bait and, because of the lack of response the older boys soon got bored and drifted away. # Once the family got home both his parents appeared in good spirits. Caleb wondered if it was because of the support they were given for the way he was being disciplined but he couldn’t be sure. He knew wearing just a diaper had been very humiliating when he’d had to visit the Rendle’s but hoped that wearing shorts would at least prevent people from seeing his diaper. The fact that his young brothers wore no padding under their shorts only seemed to emphasise that the well-protected teen did; as did the constant manipulation of the item to gain as much comfort as possible from its bunching effect. However, now he was home he even lost the security of those tiny shorts as he was once again told to strip down to his protection. Thomas had made it abundantly clear that as Caleb had lost the trust of both him and his mother, and until they could be sure he wouldn’t try to renege on his punishment, the ‘visibility’ rule would continue. School, church and trips out of the house for any reason meant he might be allowed to wear shorts over his diaper, though he had to check with either parent before venturing outside, it would be a privilege he’d have to earn. He had to understand the diaper wasn’t for humiliation purposes, it was to instil on him that actions have consequences, and this was the consequence of his reckless actions. Caleb, fearing another beating, and very conscious that in fact he had denigrated his parents rules, didn’t complain. He accepted his penance and tried to bear it as stoically as anyone from the Bible would. He knew he’d done wrong, so recognised it would be up to him to make amends. The thick diaper and rustling plastic pants a reminder should he try and forget, even for a moment, the crimes he’d committed. His mother made sure he had various elements to prompt him of his transgressions. Emily hung up the baby clothes the Rendle’s accused him of corrupting next to his own suit and teenage wear. He felt shame every time he opened his closet. She also placed the diapers and baby plastic pants from that ill-judged raid next to his own underwear and diapers so there was a constant memento whenever he had to change. Thankfully, school and for most outdoor activities, his parents usually let him wear shorts over the puffy wadding. It was the constant asking for permission that was exasperating but he knew he had to be polite and adhere to the rules if he didn’t want things to worsen. Eventually, the thickness between his legs wasn’t that much of a problem and found he slept a lot easier once he was back wearing a diaper at night. When he thought about it, snugly bound genitals at night for over fourteen years was something he was used to. Why he thought he could change that, he didn’t know. The early bed times were a bit of a problem but he’d managed to convince his parents that he should read Bible stories to the twins before they went to sleep. He didn’t know it, but this suggestion pleased everyone and greatly helped his case for the eventual return to normality. Caleb chose the stories carefully. According to the ‘good book’ there were a great deal of unpleasant outcomes for sinners in the Old Testament, he didn’t want to scare his little brothers. He’d briefly seen their faces after he’d been disciplined and didn’t want to put them through such distress again. He kept to the simple scriptures of peace, love and Jesus’s good works. Sometimes his brothers would snuggle up against him to hear the stories better or simply to be close. He would wrap his arms around them and draw them in as he whispered part of the verses and they’d thrill to the message, shivering in excitement or giggle at the way Caleb voiced different characters. Meanwhile, unknown to Caleb, his parents would be rejoicing that their son was back on the straight and narrow. He’d seen the error of his ways and had returned to the faith and his family. Thomas knew the ‘good book’ would guide and inspire his son. In reality, all his sons, as the twins listened intently to each story delivered by their older and perhaps now wiser brother. Thomas was once again reminded of another verse from the Bible. Matthew 18:12-14 If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish. He wasn’t going to let Caleb off easily; the boy had done wrong and needed to be in no doubt that a repeat offence was not an option. However, he was happy to have this own wayward sheep back in the fold. Part 3 It may have seemed unlikely that a fourteen year-old lacked any sexual knowledge but Caleb was in many ways quite innocent. Often, when the topic had come up at school he was mystified as to what was being discussed, or, more precisely, why everyone was giggling about the subject. He knew boys and girls were different but had little interest in finding out anything further. However, Caleb had quickly, but nervously, come to appreciate his smooth cock and balls. Whereas, before he’d never given that part of anatomy much attention (the tightly fitted diaper keeping his hand away at night) now he was more attentive. The glossy plastic pants complimented his silky, naked pubic area, and although it would be laughed at by his classmates, he was beginning to enjoy the feeling his new hairless area gave. Even his diaper seemed to offer more intense sensations. School for Caleb became weird very quickly. Everyone knew he was back in diapers because of the ‘Rendle incident’ so at recess and lunchbreaks, all around the building, that was the main topic of conversation. Suddenly, social media and just plain local gossip were alive to the subject of diapers and punishment. Within a few days ‘teenager in a diaper’ had become THE story and trending hashtag, everyone wanted in on it – the Twittersphere went ballistic. All and sundry had an opinion and happy to share it in any way they could. Caleb was overwhelmed by the interest, with his padding becoming the focus of far too much attention from school mates and even strangers. He wished more people read the Bible. Luke 6:31 “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Perhaps then they wouldn’t be so ready to chastise and abuse him. Gary, Buddy, Sanjeev, Carlos and Max, the boys he got drunk with, had all become distant with him and, to a certain extent, each other. Apparently, Mrs Rendle had created quite a fuss with the neighbours and all the boys had been chastised to a greater or lesser extent. After a severe beating by his father, Gary, the ringleader and whose home it was (and who spiked Caleb’s drinks) had been threatened with Military School. Now he was on his best behaviour and hardly dare speak to anyone never mind give his usual confident backchat. The little group had been broken but it was the extent of Caleb’s punishment that created a barrier between them. None wanted to end up in diapers like him and thought the best course of action was to keep their distance. They needn’t have worried, their involvement in the dare was almost forgotten and it was only Caleb people focused on. However, with all this attention new thoughts entered the troubled teen’s head; was he was being tested? With the fantastic thrill he felt thanks to his sleek pubic area, diaper and plastic pants, maybe the Lord was testing his resolve not to pleasure himself? Also, making him the subject of such derision, perhaps God was penalising him in his own way? Then he had another theory; what if it was Satan making things worse? Guilt spread through his body; he couldn’t let the Devil anywhere near his family. He couldn’t give in to any form of temptation. He had to be good for the sake of his brother’s and his own salvation. # James 1:13-15 When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death. Meanwhile, other boys just wanted to take the piss, although even they had to admit that Caleb was dealing with his peculiar circumstances a lot better than they ever would. A few boys maintained that they would never let their parents treat them in such a way but, Caleb was unlike most of his classmates and understood what it meant to let his family down. So, if it meant keeping his distance from friends, and keeping his hand outside of his diaper, then that’s what he’d do. Although he didn’t like the present state of affairs, he knew from the Bible he had to gain his parents, and God’s, respect back, no matter how long it took. The town began to divide into two particular camps. The pro-Jefferson family stance was applauded by older citizens, whilst the younger population were incensed at the brutal and humiliating way the teenager was being treated. They didn’t actually know about the beating but that didn’t stop them speculating. Such was the intensity of the debate that a local newspaper ran a feature on the subject. Without mentioning the Jefferson’s by name they created a discussion forum and explored the pros and cons of what was happening to Caleb (although again, without mentioning him by name). What started out as a small, quirky feature developed into a huge talking-point. It was amazing, with social media and the like in full swing things happened at incredible speed. Some were funny, like the diapers on celebrities, but when Caleb was identified as the real ‘victim’ people wanted answers. Interest had been stirred; it was no longer acceptable to be theoretical about the subject, the papers wanted to know all about Caleb and his parents. Caleb had never been the most popular boy in school he was seen as too much of a goody-goody, his religious upbringing putting many people off. What he’d done was completely out of character and had ended in disaster. Now his small group of friends had been scattered, and the fact he was wearing tiny shorts and a bulky diaper, meant he was even more of a misfit to most of the school… but not everyone. As much he tried to avoid the situation, Caleb had suddenly become a bit of a local celebrity. Girls especially wanted to get to know him and it seemed the diapers under his shorts were a beacon for those who wanted to date him as much as those who wanted to mother him – his situation produced a wide range of responses. He himself was bewildered by the entire proceedings and just wanted to melt away. # However, some of the girls held a ‘diaper-in’; they all arrived for a day of support wearing thick diapers to class. It was a strange act of solidarity towards the protection-wearing teen but one he took no part in, preferring to keep his head down and do what was right for his family. He begged them all not to argue amongst themselves but refused to talk on camera when a local news channel decided he was newsworthy. With the arrival of the camera crew the conversation and interest went up several notches and soon everyone had something to say on the subject, apart that is, from the Jefferson family. The reporter and cameraman made no bones about getting an interview with the central character but Caleb just ran off though not before the camera zoomed in on his tight and puffy shorts. It probably didn’t help that he was rustling quite loudly as he made his exit, the noisy plastic pants making the journo smile as he disappeared. There were far too many voices shouting at Caleb and though he tried to ignore them it was getting more and more difficult. The problem was the entire event had become bigger than just a stupid drunken dare backfiring and the culprit made to make amends. It was now about using humiliation as punishment and what were the acceptable levels (if any) of that humiliation. What was missed by this general clamour of ‘moral outrage’ was at no point had Caleb voiced his own personal outrage either publicly or privately. He simply accepted the punishment his father thought was necessary. Emily arrived home with the twins to find a photographer in her back garden taking shots of the washing hanging out on the line. He smiled and quickly made his exit once he’d been discovered but not without firing off another series of shots of her and the twins. It all occurred so quickly. She was barely able to register what was happening but once she realised the line of billowing diapers had been the thing of interest she became angry at such an intrusion. She could readily understand the feeling Mrs Rendle had of violation after her clothes had been stolen. It just wasn’t right. Meanwhile, the phone was constantly ringing and, after answering a few strange and abusive calls, where “No comment” was dismissed as an unacceptable response from a reporter, it was left to the machine to screen all incoming messages. Without a statement from the boy or the parents it was left to the two opposing factions to vent their spleen. The TV crew were not without plenty of volunteers who wanted to add their two cent’s worth. Proverbs 18:2 A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion. Mrs Rendle in particular was keen to put her side of the argument about the attitude of the ‘youth of today’ but conceded that it took a great deal of guts to appear at her door, as Caleb had, to apologise wearing nothing but a diaper. In fact, it was this particular ‘bizarre’ incident that had piqued press interest. How could a teenager be persuaded to dress in such a way and be made to apologise? What threats, coercion or downright violence would have to be in force for that to happen? These were questions the locals, and now the press, wanted to investigate. It was a story they knew would get people talking as everyone would have an opinion. Mrs Rendle also became a bit of a star herself as she expressed her distaste for the local youth and told anyone who’d listen about the exchange between her and Caleb. Tactfully, she didn’t mention he’d wet himself, much to the appreciation of the boy himself. However, there was another reaction to all this intense scrutiny that no one had foreseen - Caleb and his brothers had all started waking up soaked. When it first occurred Caleb guiltily shrugged it off as an unfortunate accident, thinking it might have something to do with him enjoying the naked sensation ‘down there’. Whatever the reason he was thankful to his parents for making him wear protection. However, after the third consecutive night, and the fact the same thing was happening to Joshua as well as Daniel, the event became far more alarming. It appeared stress was contagious and the boys were suddenly peeing in sync and sympathy at night. Although only Caleb wore a waterproof cover all the time, all the boys now wore rubber pants at night as a safeguard. Meanwhile, the washing line got heavier and heavier with the daily laundry. # At school Caleb was constantly being questioned and assaulted, supported and insulted in equal measure. Unfortunately, this constant attention led to a traumatic confrontation during a lunchbreak when a reporter from a daily newspaper had determined the story needed nationwide exposure. The female journalist appeared friendly enough to begin with, before Caleb realised her real business, but suspicion grew when he noticed a photographer, with a long range lens, taking sneaky shots from different angles obviously trying to get a photo of his actual diaper. In fact, the reporter got quite aggressive when he refused to expose himself to her so they could get a decent shot. Such interest in the subject was a mystery to the Jefferson’s who had decided, as a family, they wanted nothing to do with what they saw as nobody else’s business. The reporter tried to blackmail Caleb by saying that if he cooperated the item would be sympathetic towards him and his family, but if not… Ecclesiastes 7:7 Extortion turns a wise person into a fool, and a bribe corrupts the heart. All Caleb’s upbringing had made him respect others and especially those older than himself (a reminder as to what happens when that rule is forgotten was hugging his bruised bottom at that moment). However, such was the line of questioning, and the apparent inability to take “Sorry, no comment” as an answer led to what must have been a natural outcome for a timid young lad desperate not to be involved in any of this circus. # Scared and completely out of any sort of comfort zone he panicked, flooding his diaper in public. Horror seeped into every bone in his body as he felt the warm golden liquid soak into his thick protection. Thankfully, unlike the time at the Rendle’s when he’d wet and the result was apparent, this time the plastic pants his mother had insisted he wear were a blessing. All the fluid was kept inside the slippery barrier so at least he hadn’t given the photographer the one shot he was desperate for. A sodden and sobbing Caleb tried to escape the badgering reporter but found himself penned in. Luckily, some of the girls saw what was happening and were able to escort him away from the hostile interrogation. Caleb arrived home soaked, harried and in tears. The pressure on the fourteen year-old was just too much and he couldn’t cope. He seemed confused as he kept ranting over and over again. “Forgive me father for I have sinned (sob) Forgive me father for I have sinned.” He threw himself down and knelt next to his bed in prayer, his bulging shorts displaying the fullness of his dilemma, and pleading with the Lord to forgive him. “Forgive me father for I have…” “Ssshhhhh.” Emily hugged and soothed him as best she could but the boy was inconsolable and blamed himself for bringing such unwarranted attention to his family. “I’m sorry, sorry, sorrrrrrrry…” The tears gushed and the grief-stricken lad didn’t know what to do to make amends. Emily patted his padded bottom detecting the mushy diaper. She hoped that being put into something dry might make things better. The process was achieved very quickly with barely any acknowledgment from Caleb. She put him to bed in the hope sleep would take away the pain but he just whimpered restlessly until Daniel slipped his pacifier between his older brothers lips. It was something the four year-old used occasionally when he got fussy or upset about something. Caleb was so drained it was only a couple of minutes before the effects of suckling soon encouraged sleep. Thomas had been working out of town and had missed most of what had transpired. Once Emily brought him up to speed he realised his actions had contributed greatly to the current fever gripping the town. He looked in on his distressed but sleeping son and was amazed to see the pacifier still being gently nursed. “Oh heavens. What’s happened… did he come home like this… did someone… is he…?” His wife realising he’d got the situation all wrong explained about Daniel, who, seeing his brother in such distress, offered him the item he used when upset. Thomas was relieved and immediately went and ruffled the twin’s hair saying what good boys they’d been. Like Caleb they were already damp but wriggled joyfully as they always did when mama or papa praised them. However, now the details of the town’s ‘agitation’ were known Thomas thought of a way to defuse the situation. Later that evening when the family were all together, and a much calmer Caleb had woken up, his parents informed him that, for school at least, he no longer would be required to wear a diaper and shorts, as that part of the punishment was over. Naively they thought this action would neutralise the problem and everything would get back to normal. However, after the day Caleb had, and the fact that he’d wet himself at school, the panic-stricken boy begged his parent to let him continue to wear his protection until he was sure it wouldn’t happen again. He pleaded with them that his pants, with an accidental wet mark down the front, would make things a lot worse and only add to the story. Reluctantly they agreed with his summation of the situation and hoped that his school pants would hide his padding. The following day, and without any of the main characters having been interviewed, a national newspaper carried the story, with photographs. It was at this point that all hell broke loose. Open season had been declared on the Jefferson’s. # Part 4 PARENTS OUT OF CONTROL - TEENAGER RETURNED TO BABYHOOD Not quite true but the large banner headline led to a three page feature with editorial comments on page seven. Ostensibly it was an attack in general on parents who subject their children to draconian and malicious punishment, deriding the use of humiliation as a tool to improve behaviour. There were quotes from psychiatrists and paediatricians decrying the practice and with plenty of ‘discussion’ areas for the reader to get involved in the process. There was even a ‘for and against’ vote line for readers to call. Not that the article was biased but, as the main characters had refused to be interviewed, the reporter put together her piece from tittle-tattle, opposing ‘spokes-persons’, ‘leaders of the community’ and just about anyone from whom she could garner a quote. Also, because she hadn’t acquired the ‘star’ interview, there was a great deal of her own vitriol hidden behind a ‘compassionate’ veneer. The report carried a main photograph of Caleb standing alone wearing his shorts and the obvious padding, although the image had been doctored to reveal more of the diaper than was actually visible. The caption underneath, and the accompanying description of the ‘distressed’ teen, making it appear he was a sad boy alone in a judgmental world inflicted on him by uncaring parents. His ‘crime’ was gone into in great detail, thanks to Mrs Rendle. A photograph of her and her ‘traumatised’ kids showed there was a reason for his punishment. So, although it gave the impression the newspaper cared, it was an attack on both parents and today’s unthinking youth. In print at least the reporter seemed happy to play each side off against the other. The background to the page was the washing line full of windblown fabric diapers and the implication at how cruel the parents must be to make their teenage son wear such babyish items to school. With the washing line full (it did include the twin’s diapers after all), it looked like poor Caleb was compelled to wear, and use, his diapers all the time to add to his humiliation. This wasn’t the case but the journalist was happy to insinuate as much, after all, she didn’t want the truth getting in the way of a good story. The reporter speculated about how he might have been further punished but only the Jefferson’s knew what had really happened and they weren’t talking to anyone about the incident. However, uninformed assumptions were made, and then reported as fact – ‘…a disgusting violation by his ‘god-fearing’, ‘church-going’ parent’s’ the paper proclaimed. The journo had taken quotes from the Reverend saying how religious the Jefferson’s were but used that information to attack them for their ‘unchristian’ style of punishment, which, as far as the newspaper was concerned (read the editorial on Page 7), amounted to nothing less than abuse. When a local politician was asked for his opinion, and seeing an election on the horizon, he sided with the parents who, according to his statement “Had a difficult tight rope to walk when disciplining a child but, all in all, and with everything considered, they were doing the best they could.” Now a politician had stuck his nose into the debate the press wires became intense and suddenly, what had started as a drunken dare and subsequent punishment for a child, became a national ‘outrage’. It was an ‘outrage’ depending on which side you were on. # By week’s end the madness had grown out of all proportion and life was getting very difficult for the Jefferson’s. All the news networks had picked up on the story and were running with their own features and opinions. National politicians, children’s authors, social commentators, religious leaders, psychologists and psychoanalysts were happy to share their ‘learned’ thoughts on the subject. Punishment became the main topic in the media. They scrambled for stories where some poor kid had been embarrassed by some form of discipline. Not all of the outlandish stories were true but the thirst for these horrendous accounts meant that some people were doing very well out of it all. Still the Jefferson’s refused to comment… other than “No comment”, but the pressure on them was mounting. Although others were happy to talk (complain) about their experiences, the fact that the family had remained silent had made them even more desirable as ‘guests’. The producers of the top-rated chat shows arrogantly thought that although the family may not wish to chat to mere news outlets, they would no doubt jump at the chance to be interviewed (sympathetically of course) in a cosy studio by one of their ‘superstar’ celebrities. Alas, money, cars, would be agents, celebrity, flights to the capital, New York, Los Angeles, Chicago… in fact, to everywhere, the offers were met with a resounding “No comment”. Neither Thomas nor Emily had ever put great store in wealth so weren’t tempted by any of the fantastic propositions. Hebrews 13:5 Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” In all this clutter things got worse for Caleb. The focus of attention had made it impossible for him to continue being a normal schoolboy. His brief period of getting back into pants instead of shorts hadn’t been the success his parents had hoped for. He was being ridiculed by some of his fellow students for not wearing his shorts and being proud of having to wear a diaper. The fact that he was now using diapers as a safety precaution was never mentioned. His smooth, naked cock and balls were no longer of any interest to him as he felt that in some way, his enjoyment of them was adding to his sins, and the fact he was wetting more was the proof. He kept his hand well away from that part of his anatomy but continued to saturate his diapers. The thick cotton fabric doing its best to soak it all up but mercifully the plastic pants were the real saviours in preventing accidental spillage. Further incidents ensued that frightened Caleb. On a visit to the boy’s room he was followed by some older boys who attacked him. They didn’t beat him up or anything they just held him down, stripped him out of his shorts, and took photographs of him wearing only his diaper and plastic pants. They even thanked him before giving back his shorts saying that they could sell the photos and make a fortune. Whether they had or not he didn’t know but the event left him shaking in fear. Only a few hours later, he was almost home when a police officer stopped him and said he had to accompany him to headquarters. By now he was suspicious of being approached by anyone he didn’t know so told the cop he’d have to speak with his parents first. When the officer said that wouldn’t be necessary because he’d already spoken to them and they said it was OK, he knew it was a lie and ran home. He wasn’t pursued. Every day there seemed to be another piece of video of Caleb walking somewhere, the wobbly camerawork desperate to get a close up of the offending item. He was cornered by fellow classmates as well as news crews and on several occasions the pressure got to him and he’d fill his diaper. At those moments he was so glad his mama had fitted him securely into rubber pants. Caleb had come to rely on his waterproof covering to stop any leaks because he was wetting himself on a regular basis. In many ways he felt more secure now he had that vinyl shield around to protect him. He didn’t want to give the terrors he was living through any more credibility with a display of wet pants. After a few days of this total madness his parents decided he should stay home, hoping that with Caleb not being at school the media would go away. Unfortunately, they were besieged by an ever demanding, sneaky and invasive press. The phone had been unplugged, the curtains drawn, the family couldn’t go anywhere without being overwhelmed by ‘interested parties’. Thomas was finding it difficult to go to work and Emily couldn’t hang out washing without a barrage of photographers covering her every step. The pressure to speak was becoming intense and more than one of the congregation was offered money if they could convince the family to be interviewed. The media went into exclusive mode. The amount of money offered to procure the family for a prime time interview was simply incredible. Dollar signs appeared in everyone’s eyes (except for the Jefferson’s), as pressure was put upon the family to speak once and for all. Even the Reverend had been tempted to try and coerce Thomas to relent his stance. The standard, “No comment”, which was always followed by a smile and a wave from Thomas was really annoying the media. They were used to being able to get anyone to give a statement, be interviewed or pass their personal opinions without any trouble. However, they hadn’t bargained for a close family like the Jefferson’s and were at a loss on how to take things further. The local ‘non-story’ had escalated out of all proportion and become a major issue. Questions were being asked by serious politicians and debated on the floor of the house. Rumour had it that the Jefferson’s would be indicted to appear before a children’s court. This self-perpetuating business of news needed the main protagonists and they were refusing to speak. All the boys were under great duress, even the twins were finding the situation difficult because they couldn’t go out to play or see their friends. The house began to take on an odour of pee as none of them appeared to have any control and the stress levels continued to rise. Mrs Jefferson could no longer wash and dry the diapers in her usual way so had to resort to airing them over radiators or as best she could. If she ventured down to the store to buy anything there would be a crowd gather, inspecting and gossiping on the items in her basket. Another strange occurrence was that the store, and in fact most of the stores in the town, needed a continual supply of diapers, disposables , powders and baby cream as they were regularly selling out. It would appear that either by choice, or by disciplinarian parents, diapers were being used by more and more of the town’s population. Somehow, someone had got a message to Caleb, offering him a staggering amount if he’d ‘blow the lid’ on his parents cruelty. He passed the message straight to his father who simply shook his head in bewilderment. His father just didn’t understand why money seemed so important. Timothy 6:7-8 For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. Representatives from the top-rated TV chat shows offered huge incentives to try and get the family to appear. Even when two competing ‘celebrities’ arrived at the Jefferson’s door within moments of each other, they were both stunned to be turned away without being allowed to put their offers. “No comment but thank you for coming” was the only response they got. Thomas and Emily were subject to a stream of abuse from some quarters, whilst in other areas there were nods of approval. So, even though everyone had more or less made up their minds, they still wanted to hear the facts from these two. Although the Jefferson’s thought the outcry and clamour were ridiculous, it was now having such a detrimental effect on family life a decision was made that, for the sake of their children, they would speak. Thomas sorted through the list of offers that had been made and settled on one from a news channel with a very senior and respected reporter. Although this journalist had covered wars and famine, had been decorated and won innumerable awards, he knew that this human interest story was a good one. However, as Thomas Jefferson had said - he was the only person on TV he trusted, it was his exclusive or nothing. Arrangements were made and the family, under cover of night, were picked up and transported to a secret location for the interview. The twins weren’t going to be featured but Caleb and his parents were. None of the family was looking forward to it but saw they had very few alternatives because not being involved just made them more of a target for gossip and threats. It was going to be a live interview. Thomas insisted he wouldn’t be recorded as he didn’t want what he said to be edited, he was very suspicious of how TV worked. ‘Morals and Punishment’ was its working title and as they sat around for the red ‘live’ light to come on, the Jefferson’s were most uncomfortable. In fact, Caleb had been so anxious all day he was already filling his third diaper. The crew had asked Caleb to wear his shorts and padding for the show and although Thomas had said his son didn’t have to if he didn’t want, the teen agreed to the producer’s request. Throughout the day the crew had been very attentive but with only a couple of hours to go before they went live there was a bit of disruption. The family were left as they all disappeared into a meeting and with less than an hour to go, the entire interview was called off. The news story that knocked the Jefferson off the front page was the fact that a senior politician had been found and filmed with his mistress, a Russian spy. That became the main story and only feature for that night’s show so the Jefferson segment was bumped. The live interview wasn’t even taped for future transmission because the senior reporter, sensing a much more significant revelation, was already on his way to interview the shamed Politician. Strange how fickle news can be because on the same day a ‘Senior White House Official’ was found to be supplying drugs and, to top off what had been a couple of very ‘slow news’ weeks, Beijing had hacked the Kremlin and the world situation was deteriorating rapidly. # The Jefferson’s were completely forgotten and things in their home town swiftly got back to normal. For Caleb it was a different story. Now every morning he woke up soaked. His sleep was disturbed by nightmares and he didn’t trust anyone but his family. Although his return to school was greeted well, he never felt comfortable there anymore. He continued to wear diapers day and night because he could no longer guarantee not having an accident. In fact, he’d pee in his diaper and not realise until after the event. Caleb became one very sad teenager and really didn’t understand why his body was letting him down on a daily basis. Thomas, saw his son’s distress. After the news ‘silly season’ they’d all been subjected to he realised what happened in his son’s life was down to him and wasn’t sure how to make amends. He read the Bible looking for inspiration. He rescinded the diaper wearing and visibility rule. He desperately wanted everything to get back to normal, as did Caleb, but unfortunately the boy still wet on a regular basis. “Forgive me son, for I have sinned.” Thomas hugged his son tightly. “I have let my obsession for keeping my children on the right path obscure their own needs and desires… and as a result have subjected you to the horrors of an uncaring world. I’m so very sorry for putting you through all that.” A tear ran down his cheek. “I want to be proud of my sons. I want to guide them in the way of the Lord but I feel I may have damaged you in the process… and that is…” “Papa, I did wrong.” It was reassuring to see Caleb jump to his father’s defence and not lay blame. “I needed to be punished… it hurt but… I thought you did the right thing. It made me understand…” Now Caleb was holding onto tears. He didn’t like to think his papa was ever wrong. He needed him to always care and to look out for them all. “You made me realise how stupid I’d been. I needed that guidance papa…” He felt the thick padding in his pants. “I’m sure this will pass but… please papa… don’t blame yourself for the way things turned out.” Now his mother joined in the hug. “I will never disobey you again papa, mama… you have shown me what can happen when I stray from the rules you and the Lord lay down. I am the one asking for forgiveness.” Luke 9:42 While he was still approaching, the demon slammed him to the ground and threw him into a convulsion. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, and healed the boy and gave him back to his father. # Mama opened the front door to let in the fresh morning light. A gentle warming gust flooded the house and set the atmosphere in a pleasant swirl. Soon, all the windows and doors were open letting air circulate for the first time in what felt like weeks but had only been a few days. There was no one hanging around; the press and TV crews had departed so the coast was clear, Emily sighed in relief as she checked in on her boys. As he was being changed into a dry morning diaper Caleb asked his mother if, because he was wetting every night, it was retribution from God. “I don’t think so sweetheart.” She tried to take the solemn look off his face and make him feel better. “You’ve been under a great deal of strain… and… under such circumstances it’s not unusual for that anxiety to reveal itself in different ways.” She smiled a comforting smile. “God likes to see people repent when they’ve done something wrong… and loves you even more because of that… but maybe… he just likes to see one of his favourites in diapers because you look so cute.” She tickled his tummy. This was not how his mother normally spoke to him and her smile, as well as being described as ‘cute’, made him laugh at such a silly (though heart-warming) suggestion. # Emily was relieved to see her son, who had gotten so serious, laugh. It had been a while since the joy he usually brought to the house had been seen because the past few days had weighed so heavily on his slim shoulders. She was also in no rush for him to escape his diapers; she’d loved the closeness and reliance they had engendered. The cream she spread around his genitals gave him that familiar glow before the powder and final pins made him ready for the day. He confidently stepped into his now familiar vinyl pants and pulled them up over the fresh bulk. And, thanks to his mother, happy in the knowledge that God was not angry with him. His parents recognised that their teenage son had been under extreme pressure and weren’t surprised that, as they made him wear diapers, he’d begun to use them. He’d never been a particularly outgoing or confident boy and his experience over the past few days had added a shattering level of anxiety. Presently the boy’s diapers and plastic pants were once again fluttering in the warm sun and gentle breeze, whilst the twins were able to play in the garden with their older brother. Here Caleb felt safe and was in the ideal place to deal with what had happened. The madness of the last few days had impacted badly on Caleb. He hadn’t enjoyed being the centre of attention and didn’t enjoy the fact that for some reason his night time diaper continued to be soaked, although he felt better about that now. Playing with his noisy, but always entertaining, younger brothers took his mind off the fact that it was his confession about wearing diapers that started all the fuss in the first place. The way that admission led to a desperate need to be accepted by his judgemental friends and then the subsequent stupid dare… he hadn’t needed that form of approval. Now he had to wear protection all the time for safety reasons it didn’t seem at all babyish, it made him feel secure. The incident had brought him closer to his parents and the rebel he’d briefly entertained completely disappeared like the bruise on his bottom. # With the departure of the media things quickly resumed as normal. Soon, as peace returned, it was as if their little town hadn’t been at the centre of such a national frenzy. Well, that isn’t quite true. The thing is, the publicity made quite a number of people start to wonder. They wondered what it would be like to have to wear diapers all the time. It may have surprised Caleb, and his parents, to know just how many town’s folk wore and loved the snuggly comfort of the thing that had been the centre of much ridicule not so long ago. Diapers, in certain quarters of that town, were back in fashion... for pleasure as well as punishment. So, although it may take some time for Caleb to be able to go without his crinkly plastic protection, he wasn’t going to be doing it alone… even if he didn’t know it. ### THE END

I lady I know I took pictures from her discussion board on yahoo. She noticed them on my discussion board. I had since removed them, but she said I needed to be put over a lady or better yet a younger lady's lap and spanked. She also said what was done was childish and I ought to be diaper punished by having to wear a diaper. What is everyone's input on this situation.